A Fateful Explosion
by Bob Wright
Summary: Could the unthinkable actually happen?  Could the Million Dollar Corporation actually take the world title, destroy Hulkamania and the Mega Powers, and deliver the WWF over to organized crime forever...?  NOW COMPLETED.
1. Chapter 1

A FATEFUL EXPLOSION

BY

BOB WRIGHT

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This will be the penultimate story in the series, essentially in the long run, Part 1 of a two part finale; hence, it's only fitting that I post this first one today, on the 25th anniversary of Wrestlemania III, since we're headed straight for what I hope will be a terrifically rendered Wrestlemania. So hold on tight, we're almost to the end, and the most explosive moments (as you've probably already ascertained at this point) are yet to come.

All wrestlers' public in-ring personas are registered trademarks of World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc. And now, sit back and enjoy the story...

* * *

><p>NOT THAT LONG AGO, IN AN ARENA NOT THAT FAR AWAY...<p>

"All right wrestling fans, this is the moment you've been waiting for," a smiling Gene Okerlund addressed the cheering arena crowd, "Please welcome the champion of the world for three years running, the Immortal Hulk Hogan!"

The arena did in fact explode in applause as "Real American" cranked up over the loudspeakers and the champion trotted out, pointing proudly at his fans. He leaped up to the interview podium next to Okerlund and merrily ripped his T-shirt through as usual, sending the crowd into even more of a frenzy. "All right, Hulk Hogan, we're glad to have you here today as well," Okerlund told him, "The big news of course is the big match you have scheduled next week on the final installment of Saturday Night's Main Event before Wrestlemania, a rematch against the Nature Boy Ric Flair. As fans recall, you defeated him on Saturday Night's Main Event in an earlier encounter last July; Ric Flair has been vehemently demanding a rematch over the last few weeks, and you have decided to grant it; why now, may I ask?"

"Well you know something, Mean Gene, when you're the world champion, it's your obligation to take on anyone who challenges you for the gold, and I think you can agree that during my time as World Wrestling Federation champion, I haven't yet ducked anyone," Hulk declared firmly.

"No, you certainly have not. However, to put the title on the line so close to Wrestlemania, when the two of you could have a terrific clash on the greatest stage in all of wrestling-aren't you afraid of losing your title before that point?"

"Ultimately, Mean Gene, it won't matter; Ric Flair can lobby all he wants for a shot, but just like in July, the only thing he's going to get out of this encounter is a pin for the loss, and the cold realization that Hulkamania will live forever!" Hulk bellowed, raising his index finger skyward as the crowd roared in approval.

"All right, let's hope so. Now, Hulk Hogan, the stipulation of the match as insisted on by Ric Flair and his manger, your former manager, 'Classy' Freddie Blassie, was that each side be allowed a man in his corner. Word reached us earlier in this week that the Nature Boy had chosen his partner in the Million Dollar Corporation, the Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase. Have you made your selection yet as to whom you want in your corner?"

"Indeed I have, Mean Gene, and it's the best partner anyone could ask for. All you Hulkamaniacs give a big hand to my partner for the match, my partner in the Mega Powers and our manager, the First Lady of Wrestling, Elizabeth; 'Macho Man' Randy Savage!" Hulk gestured his finger at the curtain as "Pomp and Circumstance" rose up in the arena and the crowd went crazy as first a smiling Elizabeth and then a more neutral Savage emerged and came down the aisle, joining Hulk on the interview platform. "Well, well, I'll admit I'm not surprised," Okerlund admitted, "If anyone could cover the Hulkster's back in the ring, it's you, Randy Savage. How does it feel to be backing him up yet again as he defends the gold?"

He held the microphone to Savage's lips. It took an atypical few moments before Savage managed to mumble out, "Well, Gene, I've done it so many times before, it's like second nature to me, yeah. Seems like I've been covering Hulk Hogan's back since we founded the Mega Powers. Three years," he mumbled softly, staring intently at his partner, "That's an awful long time to be champion if you ask me. All that time, with every deserving competitor wanting the shot at the gold...everybody wants a shot at the champ...while he's held the gold this long, and just might continue to hold it forever..."

"Well, I doubt that, Randy Savage, but there's no denying Hulk Hogan is a tremendous champion, perhaps the greatest wrestling champion of all time, and he's so lucky to always have you in his corner," Okerlund declared, not noticing the small scowl starting to form on Savage's face from his remark. "Elizabeth," the interviewer turned to the Mega Powers' manager next, "As I understand, you've been working intently with Hulk Hogan to get him ready for this match; any trepidation on your part?"

"Well of course I'm worried, Gene," she admitted, "I've known Ric Flair since before he joined the WWF, and he'd always stoop to any level to win even then. I'm worried he'll pull something terrible in the match and get Hulk hurt, and the last thing we want is to see Ric Flair as world champion."

The crowd roared their agreement. "But all in all," she went on, "I think Hulk should be able to pull it out; he's beaten Ric before when Ric was fighting dirty, and I'm sure he'll beat him again, because I think you're right, Gene; he is the greatest champion of all time, and next Saturday night, he'll prove it again."

The crowd roared again in approval, but none of them noticed Savage's scowl getting deeper. "Encouraging words from the lovely Elizabeth, Hulkster; I take it you and her have gone over every possible angle Ric Flair might take," Okerlund asked the champion.

"You bet we have, Mean Gene, and that's why we'll win as well, because Elizabeth is five thousand times the manager Freddie Blassie could ever be," Hulk raised her arm high, "She's like a sister to me, and I couldn't have asked for a better person in my corner."

There came a low snort from Savage, who was fighting to control what looked like a furious expression, but again nobody noticed it. "All right, a strong relationship between the world champion and his manager in the Mega Powers," Okerlund commented, "Of course, wrestling fans," he addressed the arena, "Hulk Hogan will not be the only one defending his title next Saturday; his other teammate in the Mega Powers Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, 'Hitman' Bret Hart, will also be putting the Intercontinental gold on the line against former champion Mr. Perfect once more, so please welcome the Hitman at this time!"

The crowd in fact gave Bret a strong ovation as he entered to "Hart Beat" and joined the Mega Powers on the platform. "OK, Hitman, much like Ric Flair, Mr. Perfect lobbied heavily for this rematch; have you any regrets signing up for it?" Okerlund repeated his earlier question to Hulk.

"I'm not worried at all, Gene; I've shown I can beat Mr. Perfect twice before in spite of his whining, in spite of the cheating by him and the Weasel Bobby Heenan," Bret paused while the fans cheered the tearing down of Heenan before continuing, "To be a champion, you have to act like a champion, both in and out of the ring; by being the, shall we say, perfect crybaby, Mr. Perfect has hurt his standing. And Perfect," he stared into the camera hard, "This IS your last shot at the title. I'm tired of the complaining, I'm tired of the whining that you're better, and all these people are tired of it too," he gestured around the arena, "So next Saturday night, it's either put up or shut up."

He got another strong ovation. "Bret Hart, also quite confident," Okerlund summed it up, "Now, before all of you go," he held up his hand at the four of them as they started to leave the platform, "We have a special presentation for you. At this time, I would like to introduce the esteemed president of the World Wrestling Federation, Mr. Jack Tunney, to make that presentation; give him a hand, folks."

Polite applause greeted Tunney as he emerged from the tunnel and joined the others on the platform. "Thank you, Gene," he commended the interviewer, "I indeed have a presentation to make today for you, Hulk Hogan," he told the champion, "As I'm sure you may well recall, today marks the anniversary of your defeat of the Iron Sheik to win the World Wrestling Federation world championship. In honor of your three years on top of the world, and in recognition of all the tremendous good you have done for the sport of wrestling, it is my distinct honor to present to you, this grand trophy on account of your success."

He gestured down the aisle at a pair of aides carrying forward a tremendous four-tiered trophy. Hulk sputtered in happy surprise as it was laid in front of him. "Wow, this...this is a tremendous honor, Mr. Tunney," he told the company president, "When I first won the World Wrestling Federation championship, I never thought it would go this far, that I'd be on top of the world this long after beating so many top contenders. But the power of all the Hulkamaniacs out there," he waved to the cheering crowd, thrusting the trophy high, "Makes it all worth it. This is your trophy too, for all of you, and I can't thank you enough for all your support during these years. I have been so blessed to have so many friends holding my back all this time, just like Randy here. Isn't this terrific, Randy?"

He pulled the Macho Man close, not noticing the furious look on Savage's face (although it was likely his shades shielded the cold look in his eyes) as the Macho Man stared covertously at the trophy. "Yeah, it's been quite a ride for you, champ," Savage managed to say as calmly as he could, "I'd love to stay and celebrate, but I've got a match with DiBiase coming up; Elizabeth, let's get ready, yeah."

He took hold of her arm and bustled her off the platform and down the aisle. "Isn't he so modest, everyone?" Hulk remained oblivious to his partner's emotions, only briefly shooting a glance at Bret as the Hitman, with a concerned expression on his face, followed the Savages back towards the locker room, "Like I said, this one's for all of you too; you're all what keeps Hulkania the strongest force in the universe!"

He thrust the trophy skyward again to tremendous applause. "Hulk Hogan, now with this trophy to go along with his other accolades; how about that, everyone?" Okerlund summed everything up, "All right, stay right where you are; tag team action between the Young Stallions and the team of Hercules and King Kong Bundy is coming your way in a few moments..."

* * *

><p>"See, right there," backstage, a smiling Freddie Blassie pointed to Savage's scowling expression on the nearest monitor as the camera focused on his exit from the arena before the throw to commercials, "That, gentlemen-and Martel-is the look of a jealous man."<p>

"OOOOOOOh yes, I would say that does look like jealousy to me," Paul Bearer squinted at the image just before it faded to commercial, "Mr. Ventura may have been right, Freddie; there may be an opening here to pursue."

"You betcha, Paul; what better way to send Hogan down than to turn his so-called best friend against him-not that we really need to do much given Hogan took pleasure in driving the knife home himself just now," Blassie bragged.

"Well, I like it, Freddie, but I don't really like Don Vincenelli telling us how to do our business," Jimmy Hart mumbled, slightly frustrated, "There's still a lot of things we could have pulled out of our own hats that could have taken Hogan down."

"Hey, Jimmy, the man wants to feel important; if he wants to come up with his own ideas from time to time, let him; his father was the same way when he ran the wrestling rackets," Blassie told him, "And I love the plan; hit Hogan from where he doesn't expect it and explode the high and mighty Mega Powers..."

"And if we're lucky, destroy the fairy tale union of sweet, caring Liz and the high and mighty Macho Man," Sensational Sherri rubbed her hands eagerly, a dark look spreading on her face, "I've been hoping to see that moment for a while now. I just wished the plan was to turn Savage completely against Hulk and have him destroy him at Wrestlemania in front of the whole world, Freddie," she confessed the Blassie, "I don't want him back under my wing, sure-he blew that when he blew the title shot to Hogan-but if you'd be willing to take him up..."

A, Savage is too much damanged goods from his time with that dog Hulette, and secondly, I promised Ric I'd get him the world title A.S.A.P., and I will, through divide and conquer principles: first, destroy the Mega Powers and leave Hogan alone when he faces Ric next Saturday, second, take the title off him with our secret weapon," Blassie told her. "And how's it coming with that, Ted?" he turned to the Million Dollar Man next to him.

"We're just negotiating the price, Freddie, but otherwise, we're all set to go with Phase Two next week, and that should fall into place easy, since _everybody_ has a price for the Million Dollar Man," DiBiase predicted confidently, "And I especially love that Bruce Hart came up with the idea; it may not be his brother he's helping cheat out of the gold, but I just love that he realizes that when it _really_ matters, money trumps family every single time."

He laughed hard. "Well, if he thinks he's buying New Stampede any favors by going to Don Vincenelli for assistance, he's got something else coming in the end," Blassie snickered, "All he's done is ensure it'll be kept afloat as a Vincenelli Family protectorate; the don'll be calling all the shots whether Hart or his blasted family like it or not."

"So what's the next step for us then, Freddie?" Jimmy had to ask.

"You and Bobby work on your vocal lessons," Blassie told him and the Brain in the rear of the pack, "You two will be the most important part of Phase One, where we send Savage over the edge. Martel, you know what to do," he turned to Sherri, "Make him so suspicious of Hogan he won't be able to stand the thought of the man. Ventura'll fill in the rest when he gets spare time."

"I want more in return," Sherri folded her arms across her chest, "When Flair wins the title, I get to be co-manager with you; I want part of the belt."

"You always did strike a hard bargain, Martel," Blassie rolled his eyes in disgust, "But all right, if that's what it takes, you can help as Flair's...queen; you can be a queen again. Just don't fail on your end."

"Oh I'll do my best then, you can count on that," Sherri grinned darkly, "I've been dreaming of seeing Savage and Liz destroyed for the longest time, and I want to be there when she's sobbing heartbroken on the floor, her knight in..."

"OOOOOOOh boy, I'm late!" Heenan gasped, seeing the arena's wide shot come back on the TV screen, "I can't miss out on this match; Herc, Bundy and I had such big plans for it! Keep me informed on any changes."

He rushed off towards the curtain, where his men were waiting to go on. "All right then," Blassie rolled his eyes in disgust, "Ted," he turned back to the Million Dollar Man, "To advance the plan further in your match with Savage in few minutes..."

"Already taken care of, Freddie; Jimmy and I worked out a plan where Hogan'll have to come out and save Macho's hide," DiBiase put his arm around his manager and laughed again.

"Oh you know it, baby, and it's going to leave the entire Mega Power structure...crushed," the Mouth of the South laughed himself, "Come on Ted, baby, let's go get ready for that."

"I'm ready now, Jimmy," DiBiase laughed again as the two of them left. Blassie laughed himself. "Your time's up, Hogan," he mumbled to himself, turning back to the monitor as the rest of the managers dispersed, "By this time next week, Ric's going to be well on his way to world champion, and you're going to be in the gutter, permanently."


	2. Chapter 2

"Randy, you got a minute?" Bret stuck his head in the locker room door.

"Make it quick, pal; I got a match once these two teams finish up," Savage, in the middle of putting his ring gear on, pointed at the nearby TV set, where the Young Stallions were battling the team of Hercules and King Kong Bundy.

"Randy, I couldn't help noticing how upset you seemed out there when Hulk got that trophy," the Hitman stepped into the room, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you could have been a little more supportive there; Hulk did earn it for how long he's been champ..."

"Too long if you ask me," the Macho Man snorted, "Three years is too long for anyone; other guys need to be given their own shot, guys like you and I..."

"And we'll get our shots, Randy. Remember what I said after Summer Slam, that good things come to those who wait? Jealousy destroys, Randy; you can't give in to..."

"I can't help it," Savage said out loud, slumping his head against a locker, "I want the shot at the gold; I ain't gonna be young forever, and neither will you. Elizabeth deserves the gold; I promised I'd get it for her this year...if he keeps holding the belt forever..."

The door opened behind them. "Oh, sorry, wrong room," it was Sherri, and she did not sound apologetic at all. "Well, my despicable failure of a wrestler," she sneered at Savage, "It must be a good life you lead, being Hogan's lapdog and all that."

"I ain't his lapdog, Sherri; I'm...!" Savage started to retort.

"Well, it seems all he wants you to do is carry his bags, cover his back, and all that kind of slave stuff," she said, a dark smile spreading, "Yeah, you've made terrific progress in your career since you forced me to dump you. Oh, and I know you've said you don't believe anything I say, but word going around is that Hogan's got the hots for your luscious Liz; just thought you'd like to know..."

"OK Sherri, you said you made a mistake coming here, now go, please, now," Bret pushed her out the door. "Don't believe anything she says, Randy, she's the jealous one; she knows she can never be as good as Liz is..." he tried to tell the Macho Man.

"She's got the point, though," Savage mused thoughtfully, "What have I really done since we formed the Mega Powers? Covered his back while he walked away with the gold..."

"Randy, don't do this to yourself, please; you and Hulk are a team, just like Paul Roma and Jim Powers," Bret pointed at the screen, "They stay together through thick and..."

But it was at that moment that Roma, on the apron, suddenly kicked Powers in the back as he bounced off the nearby ropes, sending him sprawling to the mat. "Huh?" Bret was surprised, "What's going on here? What the hell is Roma doing...!"

Roma in fact climbed into the ring and helped the legal Hercules pound away on Powers's back. He then climbed up to the top rope on one side of the ring, watched Hercules drag Powers up the other and suplex him to the mat, then leaped himself, delivering a hard elbow to his partner's chest. The two of them then whipped Powers hard into the corner and tagged Bundy, who delivered his dreadful Atlantic City Avalanche to Powers, who crumpled limply to the mat, allowing Bundy to cover him for the pin. "Well, I guess he didn't want to be in a tag team no more, yeah," Savage mused, watching an ecstatic Heenan raising Roma's arm in the ring as well as his charges.'

"OK, this was just coincidence, Randy; maybe we misjudged Roma all this time, but he's wrong to do this. Don't make the same mistake out of jealousy, Randy," the Hitman begged him, "What you and Hulk have..."

"Seems a whole lot more like an unequal partnership if you ask me," Savage muttered, sauntering towards the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a match with Ted DiBiase, in which I should try and prove I'm just as good as Hogan, yeah."

He exited the locker room, nudging past Davey Boy Smith as the British Bulldog entered. "Everything going OK, Bret old chap?" he asked his brother-in-law.

"I hope so, pal," Bret turned to the TV, "Let's just hope Randy wins this match impressively; he might be heading for a dark place if things go wrong."

"Jealous, huh?" Davey nodded knowingly, "I knew that look he gave during the trophy presentation; Tom gave me that look when I went solo and started doing well without him. Well, maybe it'll pass-I hope."

Out in the hall, Savage weaved his way through somewhat heavy traffic towards the curtain, passing Heenan and his cronies at the interview area, where an incensed Okerlund was laying into them all: "...the meaning of this, Paul Roma; you turned on your partner in the middle of the match!" the interviewer shouted at him.

"I've had it with him holding me back," Roma insisted, "I'm better than him, and he knew it; I decided to get myself a better partner," he put his arms around a grinning Hercules, "One who isn't a pretty boy or a coward."

"Bobby Heenan, did you induce Roma into betraying Powers?" Okerlund accused the Brain.

"Calm yourself, Okerlund you humanoid. I had some contact with Paul here before the match, yes, but I merely affirmed his belief that Powers was holding him back," Heenan insisted, glancing conteptuously at the groaning Powers as he was carried by on a stretcher, "And so, I invited Paul into the Heenan Family, and he accepted. So say hello Okerlund, and say hello, America, to my new tag team, Power and Glory!" he raised Roma's and Hercules's arms high.

"Long live Power and Glory!" Bundy added, raising both men's other arms.

"Now wait just a minute here, all of you; I find this whole situation utterly reprenhensible, and I'm sure the viewers at home do as well!" Okerlund gestured at the camera, "the Young Stallions were a team, Paul Roma, a team! How could you possibly have the gall to stab Jim Powers in the back like this after everything the two of you have done together?"

"Maybe because of what he said earlier, Gene; he was tired of being overshadowed and held back, yeah," Savage spoke up, making Okerlund spin and frown in surprise, "Keep that in mind the next time you ask, yeah."

"Like Macho said, Okerlund; Paul had enough," Heenan continued as Savage walked off, "And as the greatest manager in all of wrestling, I've made it my custom to take in guys who have no place elsewhere. And I strongly predict that in the very near future, Power and Glory will reach heights here in the WWF never before..."

Savage heard little else as he continued towards the curtain, where Elizabeth was already waiting. "Thought you weren't going to make it," she greeted him.

"Had a little on my mind," he grumbled, "I'm ready, though, and DiBiase's going down; I'm going to beat him in record time, I know it..."

"Well, that would be nice," she admitted. "Wow, I can't believe they actually made Hulk a trophy," she remarked, not noticing Savage's scowl return, "But of course he has earned it being champion all this time..."

"Hey Macho, where's _your_ trophy?" DiBiase called out as he and his entourage approached the curtain as well, "Feels bad to be left out, don't it?"

"I've got one coming, I've just got to find the right place to earn it, DiBiase, and that includes beating you one-two-three right now, yeah!" Savage stuck a finger in the Million Dollar Man's face.

"Dream on, Macho; you couldn't beat me if every bone in my body was broken," DiBiase laughed contemptuously. "And forget about getting your own trophy; your whole purpose in life is clearly just to be Hogan's lapdog, am I right, Virgil?" he laughed at his bodyguard, "Of course, _I_ couldn't have that problem; I'd just buy my own trophy-or the trophy company if if they refused me service. But since you don't have the money I do, you're all out of luck-and stuck with Hogan for life."

"Ted, let it go, all right; it doesn't matter who has a trophy and who doesn't," Elizabeth told him sharply.

"Or does it?" DiBiase raised an eyebrow, "See you in the ring, Savage, and no amount of good work on your part's going to get you any lauds, right Jimmy?"

"You tell him, Ted; let's go," the Mouth of the South cackled, leading DiBiase and Virgil out as the Million Dollar Man's theme roared to life over the sound system. "I'm going to rip him up, yeah; limb from limb!" Savage swore, his fists clenched.

"Now Randy, don't give into emotion, please; Ted DiBiase's a bully, plain and simple; he's trying to deliberately...Randy, wait!" she cried as he rushed through the curtains after DiBiase before his own theme had even started. Savage leaped into the ring, flattened the Million Dollar Man with a hard forearm smash before he was even out of his suit, charged Jimmy and Virgil to get them out of the ring, then started climbing the top rope right. "Macho Man on a tear already, and it looks like he's going for the elbow right off the bat!" announcer Vince McMahon roared into his headset at the broadcast position, "I've never seen him so pumped up before!"

"I haven't either, but I think I know what's making him tick, and you're not going to like it, McMahon," Jesse 'the Body' Ventura smirked in the seat next to him.

"Macho Man perched high in the air, here he comes-no, DiBiase rolls out of the way in time, and only now does the lovely Elizabeth make it to ringside; Macho Man was off like a rocket there."

"Almost like he has something to prove if you ask me, McMahon," Ventura grinned darkly.

"And what does he need to prove? He's more than proven himself a terrific talent here in the World Wrestling Federation."

"Oh, simply the fact that Hogan has the belt and he doesn't. If I were Macho, I'd be rather upset that Hogan hasn't given him a title shot yet."

"All in due time, Jesse. Macho Man still with his ring gear on as he gets back to his feet-and a big slam of DiBiase and a cover: one, two...Virgil in to make the save. In a related note, we here at the World Wrestling Federation are happy to announce that the Macho Man's brother, the Genius Lanny Poffo, has signed with us in a managerial capacity, and will be making his debut with us in a week or two."

"Word is, McMahon, he's aiming towards managing the boys from Shaker Heights, Ohio, the Beverly Brothers, and that would be a good connection. Lanny Poffo had a good career in ICW, and he has quite a bit to give to Beau and Blake Beverly that can help them go far in the tag team ranks. You know, it's just too bad that ICW's on its last legs; the bottom kind of fell out when Macho left."

"What are you saying, Jesse?" McMahon frowned at him, "Are you saying it's the Macho Man's fault that International Championship Wrestling is likely about to go bankrupt?"

"I'm just pointing out the simple fact that the promotion's best days were when Macho was headlining with his brother," the Body leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face, "Without him, his father, the great Angelo Poffo, didn't have as big a draw. So yeah, I guess from a certain point of view, it is Macho's fault ICW's going under."

"I'll request you not word it that way, Jesse; the wrestling business has its own quirks, and Randy Savage is in no way responsible for ICW's impending termination, if that is in fact what happens."

"What's this 'if' business, McMahon' it's dead in the water, and if I were Macho, I'd be ashamed to look his father in the face after this..."

"Randy Savage pushing Ted DiBiase into the ropes and whaling away at him; wow, I've never seen Savage punching so hard before in his life!" McMahon exclaimed, noting Savage belting the Million Dollar Man hard.

"That's how he got the name Randy SAVAGE, McMahon. And I'm willing to wager that right now, he's seeing DiBiase as Hogan, and taking out his frustrations on being held back by the champ on the Million Dollar Man."

"Are you trying to start something here, Jesse Ventura?" McMahon glared at him, "I know the way your mind works, and if you want something done..."

"You can't prove anything, McMahon; I'm just doing my usual job as an unbiased journalist, unlike you."

"You're trying to start something, I just know it, Jesse. Your disdain for Hulk Hogan knows no bounds, I know that much, and if you're in any way trying to drag Randy Savage into that vendetta, I strongly advise you to stop. Randy Savage flipping Ted DiBiase over his head, now goes off the ropes-and Jimmy Hart trips him from outside the ring, come on!"

"Jimmy Hart's just watching his man's back, McMahon. Now Elizabeth, I'm not too sure; word is she's spending an awful lot of time with Hogan these days..."

"Now stop that, Jesse; I will not allow you to spread vicious rumors about a truly caring and inspiration person like Elizabeth. She cares for her man, and she stands by her man, end of discussion."

"And how would you know, McMahon? How often do you get to interview her?"

"Often enough to know there is absolutely nothing between her and Hulk Hogan. She is loyal to Randy Savage, and always will be. A look of deep concern on Elizabeth's face at the moment, however, as Ted DiBiase now pounding the Macho Man's head into the turnbuckle repeatedly. As we noted, the Macho Man's brother will be arriving soon here in the WWF; we would also like to welcome back to the WWF Jim 'the Anvil' Neidhart, who has agreed to return, and will now be partnering with Bret Hart's brother, 'the Rocket' Owen Hart, in a team that shall be known as, fittingly enough, the New Foundation."

"I think that's a step down for Neidhart, though, McMahon; nothing can possibly top the success the Hart Foundation used to have. Owen Hart has potential, but potential don't get you the belts unless you..."

"DiBiase with a sprialing kick sends the Macho Man halfway through the ropes-and look at this, Virgil with a cheap shot-and another one; turn around, ref!" McMahon roared in disgust, "Virgil rolls the Macho Man back into the ring; DiBiase stomping on his chest, and now climbing the ropes; it looks like he's setting Randy Savage up for that elbow backdrop of his. DiBiase measures the Macho Man, and here he comes...and he misses!"

"He took too much time up there, I'll grant that."

"Macho Man back to his feet, grabs DiBiase's legs, and a slingshot into the corner coming up-yes! Savage grabbing DiBiase by the beard, and here he goes over the top rope-and back snaps the Million Dollar Man! Savage going up to the top rope; here comes the elbow again. Macho Man about to take flight...wait a minute, what's this, who's that coming up the aisle...the Earthquake!" McMahon gasped at the sight of the Walking Natural Disaster jogging at full gallop towards the ring, "Randy Savage off the top rope and hits the elbow on DiBiase, but Earthquake coming into the ring; turn around...oh no!" he groaned as Earthquake flung himself hard on top of Savage, prompting the referee to immediately wave for the bell, "Earthquake with blatant outside interference, and now he's kicking away at the Macho Man-and here comes Virgil into the ring, and now he's kicking him as well! DiBiase laughing as he gets to his feet, and he joins the carnage as well; Randy Savage being unfairly triple teamed here!"

"And Liz just stands there looking horrifed in the corner; some help she is."

"Elizabeth in fact now running off for the curtain; I suspect I know exactly where she's going..."

"I do too, McMahon, and I'm not surprised in the least," Ventura rocked confidently in his chair, "And I suspect Savage ain't gonna like it."

"Unfortunately, Randy Savage continuing to take a beating from the Million Dollar Man and his cronies. Jimmy Hart jumping around in the corner, shouting instructions at his men through that accursed megaphone of his...and here comes the tremors from Earthquake!" McMahon grimaced as Earthquake commenced his trademark stomping around Savage, "Randy Savage about to take a full-on jolt measuring at least eight on the Richter Scale...ooooooooooh my!" he grimaced harder as Earthquake coldly delivered his finisher square to Savage's chest, "Macho Man taking a beating; DiBiase and Earthquake laughing hard-and more tremors! He's going to give him another one!"

"Well of course he is, McMahon; surely you and Gorilla have the brains to know Earthquake's victims always get more than one Earthquake," the Body said coolly, "Now the question is whether help for Savage arrives in time..."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a loud roar rose up throughout the arena as a familiar figure in yellow and red rushed at full speed towards the ring, a steel chair in hand. "AAAAAAAAAALL RIIIIIIIGHT, here comes the Hulkster!" McMahon roared happily, "Hulk Hogan into the ring with a steel chair, and a hard shot sends Earthquake stumbling! Jimmy Hart yelling at his men to bail out as Hogan clears the ring of all of them-Virgil with a final cheap kick at Savage, though. The Hulkster standing guard over Randy Savage, protecting his good friend as the Million Dollar Man and his cronies exit the arena quite rapidly, passing a concerned Elizabeth..."

"Yeah, she's only showing her face again because the danger's over, and because she can't be seen with Hogan in public."

"Now I said stop that, Jesse Ventura; you have no evidence to support your statements and you know it. Hulk Hogan helping his fellow Mega Power to his feet, thrusting Savage's and Elizabeth's arms in the air; another great save by the Immortal Hulk Hogan!" McMahon praised the champion. The announcement rose up over the ring microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this bout, as the result of a disqualification, 'Macho Man' Randy Savage!" It was, however, Hulk's theme that rose up over the loudspeakers next rather than Savage's. A smiling Hulk ripped his shirt through again, eagerly cupped his ear to the crowd to soak in the tremendous applause, then scooped Elizabeth up and hoisted her onto his shoulder in celebration...

At the exact moment Savage turned around, more or less recovered from the whipping he'd taken. A look of dark rage crossed his face at his partner holding his wife up, with his hand unfortunately in a discomforting location, likely by accident. In a flash, he seized Hulk's shirt and flung it into his face. "No thanks, brother, let the crowd have it," Hulk remained oblivious as he lowered Elizabeth back down, "Good thing I was right nearby in case..."

"Come on!" furious, Savage grabbed Elizabeth's arm and led her quickly out of the ring, glaring up at the loudspeakers overhead as they continued blaring "Real American" rather than "Pomp and Circumstance." Hulk stared puzzledly after them for a moment, then shrugged and thrust his index finger skyward to more cheers. "Listen to this ovation; everyone simply loves Hulk Hogan here!" McMahon declared, also oblivious.

"ALMOST everyone, McMahon," Ventura grinned darkly. The plan was coming along very well so far.

* * *

><p>"Uh oh, looks like you're right, old chap; this could be trouble," Davey mumbled worriedly as he glanced at the locker room monitor, which was fixated on Savage's angry expression as he left the arena, Hulk's theme still blaring at full strength over the loudspeakers, "And Hulk's not really helping much. Maybe we should have a word with him and let him know how Randy feels."<p>

"Now let's just hope he's willing to listen," Bret confessed, looking worried himself. As far as he knew, Hulk trusted Savage implicitly and might not be inclined to believe there could be any trouble in the Mega Powers...


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on, Hitman, you're imagining things," Hulk in fact scoffed in the parking lot after the Supestars taping.

"Hulk, come on, this is serious," Bret tried to caution him, "Randy's getting upset; he's clearly starting to think he's going to spend his entire career in your shadow. Maybe you should at least sit down and make it clear to him you're not trying to deliberately upstage him before something terrible ends up happening."

"What could happen, dude? Randy and I are like brothers; he watches my back, I watch his," the champion remained unconcerned, "What problem could he possibly have, especially after I helped him this afternoon?"

"That's the point, Hulk, maybe you were a little too emphatic to help today, and you ended up overshadowing him when you helped him-we know you didn't mean it, but from our point of view, it ended up happening nonetheless," Davey pressed, "Understand at least that with you holding the belt for so long, he may be feeling like he's..."

"Relax, Bulldog, I consider Randy a full and equal partner in the Mega Powers..."

"Yeah, we know that, but does Randy?" the Bulldog raised an eyebrow, "Look, maybe you should consider giving him a title shot at Wrestlemania; that might make him feel a little better..."

"Nah, I couldn't do that," Hulk shook his head, "I don't want Elizabeth to have to choose between the both of us."

"Well that's all good and well, Hulk, but..."

"See, glad you understand," Hulk shook his hand, "Hey, I'm going to Shane's for a few rounds; tell Randy when he comes out he should come too."

"We'll extend the offer, Hulk, but don't forget what we're saying now; if you're not careful, and somehow Randy gets sent over the edge..." Bret continued to press the point.

"See you guys later," Hulk all but laughed as he strolled towards his car. The two brother-in-laws exchanged a worried glance. "Now what?" the Briton inquired.

"Keep an eye open and hope nothing pushes Randy too far," Bret sighed, "We might as well bring the rest of the Connection up to speed on this as well; maybe all of us could help in a pinch."

"Certainly, yeah, but maybe we'll get lucky and it'll blow over," Davey suggested, "Maybe, just maybe, Randy'll relax in a couple of days."

* * *

><p>"...bad enough you steal my moment, blast your theme on the sound system when I won the match; nobody lifts her up on the shoulder but me, nobody!" a still fuming Savage muttered back in the locker room, shoving his wrestling gear into his duffel bag, "You want to do it, bring your own wife on the road, yeah! I ought to just forget everything and...!"<p>

There came a knocking at the locker room door. "Ah, Macho, you're still here," Ventura stuck his head in.

"What do you want, hot dog; I ain't in a good mood right now!" Savage snapped at him.

"I know. Hey, listen, I know you usually hate my guts, but I agree that Hogan was out of line this afternoon," the Body walked over to him, "He had no right touching Liz at all, and if you want to do anything about it, go right ahead, Macho."

"I'm thinking about it, yeah, but I'm probably not going to in the end; Elizabeth wouldn't like it," the Macho Man admitted.

"You know, Macho, you don't have to blindly do everything Liz says," Ventura prodded him, "After all, word going around is, she's not being on the level with you anyway..."

"What the hell are you talking about, Ventura?" Savage leaned hard into his face.

"You didn't hear it from me, Macho," Ventura suppressed a strong smirk, "but what I've heard, Liz has been getting a lot closer to Hogan than she'd ever let on during their training sessions for the Flair match. Now, I know that may be hard for you to believe, given she's practically a saint in your eyes, but trust me, I don't want to see you get hurt bad at all. That's why I'm telling you that, as I've heard it, Hogan may well have been...consumating feelings when they've been training. I've seen the lust in his eyes for her, as I'm wagering you have too lately..."

"She wouldn't, Ventura; she'd never do that to me..." Savage shook his head sharply.

"Wouldn't she? I could have been wrong, but at last week's taping when she accompanied Hogan to the ring, I could have sworn I heard her say to him, 'I'm so glad I'm getting to work with the champion, Hulk; I want to work with the champion more than anything else.' Too bad Hogan won't let you have a shot at the belt; maybe you'd be number one in her eyes."

"What are you saying, that she'd...?" Savage shook his head again, unwilling to believe it.

"Wake up, Macho; she's not the saint you think she is," the Body put an arm around him, "She wants Hogan, Hogan wants her, and you'll be the odd man out if you're not careful. You deserve better than that; you're more a real champion than Hogan is."

He started to leave, then turned around at the door. "Oh, and sorry about your father's promotion going under," he told the Macho Man.

"Huh, what?"

"Oh, didn't you hear, it looks like ICW's about to file for bankruptcy and dissolve; didn't you know?"

"Well, I ain't had too much contact with Dad since I joined the WWF; we didn't really part on the best of terms," the Macho Man admitted with a regretful expression.

"Too bad," Ventura smirked softly, "You were his biggest star, I recall. Seems almost like someone could imagine your leaving sunk the promotion from a certain angle-but of course, why dwell on what could have been? Well, good luck, Macho, and keep your eye on Hogan; I suspect he's bent on maneuvering into forbidden territory. Don't let him; you deserve better than that."

He slipped out the door and bustled up the hall, bursting into laughter the moment he turned the corner. Sherri was waiting for him by the restrooms. "Did you hit him hard?" she asked him eagerly.

"As brutally as I could," Ventura laughed harder, "With luck, he now doubts Liz's loyalty. And I filled him with guilt over the failure of ICW; if we're lucky there too, he'll blame Hogan for keeping him from going back. I think you and I helped light the fuse that will undeniably explode the Mega Powers..."

* * *

><p>THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY...<p>

...in sporting news, International Championship Wrestling formally ceased operations today," the newcaster reported on Savage's TV, "Founder Angelo Poffo in a brief statement said that it simply wasn't feasible to keep operating when the World Wrestling Federation had been draining attendance for some time now. ICW had been operating for the last six years. Poffo's son and star Lanny Poffo had signed with the WWF as a manager for fellow newcomers the Beverly Brothers last week, which essentially spelled the promotion's death knell; Poffo's oldest son Randy Savage is currently a star in the WWF as the partner of world champion Hulk Hogan in the Mega Powers..."

"Yeah, I know; even you can't separate me from him!" Savage muttered in his armchair, taking a deep swig of beer. "I'm sorry, Dad," his face grew apologetic as he stared at archival footage of ICW on the screen, "Maybe if I'd stayed...we'd still be in business...I'd still be a star rather than permanent second fiddle..."

He slammed the beer glass down on the coffee table and started pacing anxiously around the living room, glancing intently at his watch. "It don't take this long for a trip to the store!" he muttered out loud, "Ventura better not be right...!"

He stopped for a moment and shook his head. "Come on, Savage, get a hold of yourself; this is Elizabeth, she wouldn't do this to you," he said to himself, fingering his wedding ring, "Not her. Still..." his expression darkened again, "She has been away an awful lot lately, and she said it was with him training for the Flair match..."

There came the honking of a familiar horn in the driveway. And indeed, when he glanced out the window, it was Elizabeth's car pulling up-and the back seat was filled with groceries, he could see. Still, given the rumors, it would be better to make sure...

He bustled outside, reaching the car as she got out. "Afternoon," she greeted him warmly, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Sorry I'm a little late, I had...what?" her brow furled as he nudged past her and stared intently at the odometer.

"Just checking," he mumbled, nodding when the mileage apparently proved satisfactory, "What took you so long?"

"I met an old friend at the store; turned out we had a lot to talk about. Then I stopped by the company office to pick up the plane tickets to Milwaukee..." she dug them out of her purse, "And Hulk was there and..."

"What did he want!" Savage snapped, making her jump slightly in surprise. "He just wanted some last minute advice for the match, Randy," she said, visibly caught off guard by the outburst.

"Ain't he got enough from you already?" he posed, glancing at the tickets in her hand, "OK, then, if these are the choices, I'm taking the aisle seat."

"Are you sure, Randy? I mean, if..."

"I'm taking the aisle seat!" he barked, snatching the aisle ticket up, "If anyone's going to have an extended conversation on the plane, it's me."

"Randy, are you all right?" she glanced at him worriedly, "You've been acting strange all week..."

"I'm fine," he muttered, staring her down, "I just hope everyone else around me is..."

* * *

><p>"Aw, can't trust your sweet angel anymore, Macho?" DiBiase snickered, watching through binoculars from his limo, parked across the street, "Well, that's what you get for thinking love's worth more than money. And speaking of which," he turned to Flair and Blassie across from him in the back seat, "We're all set for tomorrow night."<p>

"Wonderful, wonderful, Ted," Blassie rubbed his hands eagerly, "The price wasn't too high, then?"

"Hey, Freddie, I'm the Million Dollar Man; whatever price gets the job done, it's worth it," DiBiase laughed hard. "Now Ric," he turned to the Nature Boy, "All I ask is, I be the one you drop the title to when Vincenelli says you've had a long enough reign."

"Well, you'll probably have a bit of a wait, Ted; Freddie and I met with him this morning, and he made it clear he wants me to break Hogan's longevity record. So that means I'll be holding the title for the next three years at least," Flair told him, "But, for setting up the circumstances to get me the belt, sure thing, pal."

"Good, good," DiBiase rubbed his fingers eagerly. "Ah, looks like our dear soon to be disfunctional couple's starting to pack up for the trip," he noticed the Savages loading suitcases into their car (Savage tossing his in rather roughly with a scowling expression). "Jean-Pierre, to the airport," the Million Dollar Man instructed his limo driver, "We have a plane to catch to meet our destiny. A toast, then, gentlemen," he gestured for Virgil to pass him several bottles of champagne, "To the imminent destruction of Hulkamania."

"Save the champagne for now, Ted," Blassie waved him off, "I'd like to wait until Ric's the world champ officially to make absolutely sure. But, I don't doubt," he snickered backwards out the limo's window at the Savages' house, "That I'm about to give that son of a jackass Hogan a comeuppance he'll never forget AND put that uppity wench Liz in her place once and for all. And boy am I going to relish all that..."


	4. Chapter 4

MILWAUKEE, SATURDAY MORNING

"...it don't take this long to go the bathroom," Savage called impatiently at the closed door to the women's room in the terminal, "Something bad better not be going down in there."

"Randy, I just have to really go right now," Elizabeth called back, now sounding a little frustrated, "I don't know what you're so uptight about."

"I have my reasons," Savage glanced suspiciously at the adjacent men's room, where Hulk had entered about three minutes before, "And sure hope I'm wrong..."

A hand came down on his shoulder from behind. "Randy, could you come this way for a moment?" Davey asked him, deep concern in his eyes.

"I got something I need to take care of, Bulldog..."

"We'd all like a word with you, come on," the British Bulldog gently took him towards the baggage carousel, where the rest of the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection was waiting. "Try and make this quick, guys, I've got..." the Macho Man tried to say.

"Randy, we know what you're thinking," Bret began, "I can assure you Hulk hasn't sneaked into the women's room to be with Liz. And bottling her up on the plane and possibly elsewhere isn't going to do anything to solve a nonexistent problem."

"It better be a nonexistent problem, yeah," Savage muttered.

"We're all worried about you," the oversized arm of Andre the Giant came down on the Macho Man's shoulders, "It's not like you to be suspicious of Hulk like this..."

"Well maybe, just maybe, we all made a mistake blindly trusting him," Savage grumbled, "I've heard from reliable sources he just might be lusting after Elizabeth..."

"From Jesse Ventura, Randy?" Ricky Steamboat raised his eyebrows, "Yeah, I asked around, and I know that he's the one who told you. In fact, he was all but bragging about it. How could you believe a word he says when you know he's out to embarass Hulk one way or another?"

"It's just...I know...I just...come on, you guys know I love her with all my heart," Savage all but pleaded his teammates, "I don't want to lose her to anyone, especially to someone I'd thought was my best friend..."

"And Hulk is your best friend and wants to be your best friend. Why would he go after Liz; his own family would give him hell if he did, and they would find out, trust me. Randy," Bret approached him solemnly, "I know the path you're heading down; don't go there. Jealousy destroys, always."

"Absolutely, old chap; look how Tom destroyed himself the same way, getting just as overprotective of Michelle whenever anyone else looked at her," Davey tried to hammer the point further, "That was part of what convinced her to send him packing back to England, coupled with all the rest of the garbage he pulled on her and the kids with threatening their lives and all too. You and Liz have something terrific; don't blow it."

"She wouldn't leave me; not over that...!"

"If you're not careful, Randy, it might just happen, and no one wants to see that, especially not me, especially not all of us,' Bret turned to the rest of the Connection, "There's nothing going on, just let it go, right everyone?"

All their teammates nodded. Savage stared almost blankly at them for a moment. "Oh I see," he muttered, his expression unfortunately darkening again, "So, you're all on Hogan's side, then? Well, I can tell when I've lost..."

"Randy, come on, we're only trying to help you..." the Hitman begged him.

"I don't need your help!" Savage bellowed at him, making Bret jump back in shock, "And if you think I'm gonna take any marital advice from a guy who's openly admitted sleeping around on his own wife, you've got something else coming!"

"Randy, listen, I'm not proud of any of the things I've done in the past that've hurt Julie, but I have been trying to make the effort, and I'm telling you everything as a friend..."

"Some friend, then! I mean, look, no sooner is he out of the bathroom, then more grandstanding!" Savage gestured contemptuously at Hulk, who eagerly approached a group of reporters waiting for him near the door and going into a grand speech about how easily he was going to beat Flair that evening, "I don't know how anybody can stand the man! Well, if you all want to support him over me, go right ahead!" he snarled at all his teammates, "I know when I'm not wanted! See you tonight!"

"Hang on, where are you going?" Steamboat called after him as he started stomping away.

"To the Bradley Center; if I have no choice but to be in his corner tonight, I'm going look better than that braggart and cheat!" the Macho Man shot back, disappearing into the crowd. The Rock 'n Wrestling Connection exchanged worried glances. "Now what?" the Dragon asked for all of them.

"We did all we could," the Bulldog sighed sadly, "Let's just hope he either sees the light, or something doesn't go terrible wrong tonight."

* * *

><p>"Here already, Randy?" Tunney was surprised as he stuck his head in the door of the Bradley Center's weight training room to see Savage furiously bench pressing four hundred pounds of weights on his own, "No one else is going to show up for a couple hours."<p>

"Just getting ready for tonight, one way or another, Mr. Tunney," Savage mumbled, not stopping his exercise.

"Elizabeth sent a call to my secretary; she was getting rather worried if you were OK," the company president told him.

"Hogan wasn't on the line with her, was he?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no. She's worried about how things seem to be a little strained between the two of you lately."

"Well, it's just...things people are saying, and...I really want to get a shot at the gold, Mr. Tunney."

"You will, Randy, you will, all in good time. You're just as good as Hulk, and I think you'd make just as good a champion," Tunney commended him, "So just stay focused, and you'll get to the top yet. I just hope you and Hulk can work out whatever you're going through right now."

"So do I, Mr. Tunney, although it might not be that simple."

"I certainly hope it can be. A lot of problems can be easily solved that may look impossible," Tunne ytold him. He started to leave, then turned again. "Oh, and we're so glad to have your brother on board now too here in the WWF. I think he'll be just as tremendous an asset to us. He had mentioned you and he had worked together a lot back in ICW."

"Yeah, we did," Savage stopped pressing for a moment, a wistful expression on his face, "I really wish it hadn't gone under..."

"Well, unfortunately, life is full of endings, but we should always remember, every ending is a new beginning. Take it easy, Randy, and don't get too worked up about anything," Tunney told him in closing before exiting. Savage remained still for a moment, then started pressing again. "I'm just as good as Hulk," he repeated Tunney's words, "Well, at least there's somebody in this company who thinks just as highly of me-still, he put me down a little calling Lanny a tremendous asset right off the bat before he's even..."

The weight room door unexpectedly flew open again. "Macho, good, I found you," it was Ventura, out of breath, with a sympathetic look on his face, "Macho, you should know...you should know..."

"What, what, spit it out, Ventura!" Savage ordered him.

"Hogan and Liz...they came in about five minutes ago...I heard them...in one of the storage closets...at it," Ventura gasped, "Down that way, third door on the left; it's not pretty at all, Macho," he called to the Macho Man as he rushed by him down the hall, not looking back and seeing the dark grin spreading on the Body's face. Sure enough, as he approached the door in question, the sound of passionate kissing could be heard on the other side of the door. Savage yanked the knob hard but it was locked from the inside. "Oh, that felt good," came a voice from inside that sounded rather similar to Hulk's, "I'll tell you, Liz, you are one heck of a great kisser. I'm just so glad I'm getting it rather than Randy."

"Randy who?" laughed a second voice similar to Elizabeth's, "I love you more, Hulkster. How about another one?"

"Why not?' the apparent voice of Hulk gushed happily, followed by the sound of more kissing. With an angry roar, Savage kicked hard at the door while continuing to yank the knob. "Open up right now, Hogan, or you're a dead man!" he bellowed, tears running down his face, "I'll kill you for...!"

"Hey, hey, hey, you can't go in there," the building custodian came rushing up, "Can't you read?" he pointed to the NO ADMITTANCE sign on the door, "Now go on, move along."

He point up the hall. With an angry snort, and the tears still flowing, Savage rushed off. The custodian put his ear to the door, but all was quiet inside now. Shrugging, he walked off. No sooner was he out of sight than Ventura bustled up the hall to the door, dug out a key, and unlocked it. He slipped casually inside. "Swiping this key came in handy," he declared to a bulging blanket on the floor, "And I was listening in, and it was clear you guys did brilliantly."

"Would you expect anything less, Jesse?" came Heenan's voice as he threw the blanket off Jimmy and himself, "I think I made a perfect Hogan..."

"Maybe, but you kiss like my father, Bobby," the Mouth of the South complained, spitting on the floor in disgust.

"Well, either way, you did your job perfectly; when and if Macho returns, the Mega Powers are dead now," Ventura grinned darkly, "And maybe if we're lucky, he'll do a number on Hogan too and give that clown what he finally deserves."


	5. Chapter 5

THAT EVENING...

"Where the hell is he?" Hulk muttered out loud, pacing in circles around the locker room, "He knows to be here at least a half hour before the match; even with the Sheik and Volkoff facing the Bushwhackers for the tag titles after the Intercontinental match, we'll probably be on in less than fifteen minutes!"

"I'm really getting worried about him, Hulk; he's been acting strange all week," Elizabeth did look gravely concerned from her position on the nearby bench by the TV set, "It's almost as if a cloud's come over him of some kind."

"Well I hope that cloud clears up awful soon; he signed the contract to be in my corner tonight; I don't want him to get fined for bailing," the world champion mumbled, pacing in a tighter circle.

"Or anything worse to happen," the First Lady of Wrestling shivered, staring at the TV screen, "And it looks like Bret's still worried himself; Perfect's been all over him for the last five minutes..."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Perfect on top of Bret Hart's shoulders in the corner, slugging away hard with all he's got," McMahon relayed the in-ring action from the broadcast position, "The challenger plants his legs on the bottom rope, and now a tremendous snap suplex of the champion to the mat-and the shoulders are pinned! One, two...narrow escape by the Hitman."<p>

"He's been flat all match, I've noticed, McMahon; not exactly the best possible showing for all his loyal fans," Ventura snickered.

A look of deep concern on Bret Hart's face as he's flung into the ropes and downed with a boot to the face; no doubt he's concerned for the whereabouts of his friend Randy Savage, who has yet to report to the Bradley Center for the world title match later this evening; we certainly hope all is well with him."

"Well the Hitman better get his mind off Macho and back on the match, or the former champion's going to get his title back real soon."

"Mr. Perfect now leapfrogging over Hart's back, snashing his face into the mat. Bobby Heenan yelling at his man to go for the PerfectPlex now, and it looks like that's what Perfect's going to...no, Hitman with a reversal and pulls him down into a small package! One, two...just missed the three count. Bret Hart grabs the legs and slingshots Perfect into the turnbuckle; he still looks rather distracted about Savage, though. We promise to bring you the viewers up to date on any information we may learn up till and including the time of the world championship match. In the meantime, though, the tide's turned in this one, as Hart sends Perfect into the ropes-whoa, hurls him really high in the air there! Now a backbreaker, and the Hitman's going up to the top rope. Let's see what happens...down hard on Perfect's chest! The cover: one, two...again Perfect just manages to survive."

"You know, McMahon, he could have put Perfect away a whole lot earlier if he wasn't distracted, I think."

"Indeed, that is quite possible; however, Hitman seems to be getting the edge again in this one," McMahon frowned slightly at Ventura for actually somewhat supporting Bret for once, "Hitman now sends Perfect into...no, Perfect pulls him along, and they both go over the top rope! Both men hanging there in place; let's see who gets back to his feet first here..."

With a few quick jerks backwards, Bret managed to get to his feet inside the ring first. He quickly grabbed Perfect around the waist and hefted him up for a backwards suplex...

...when suddenly, without warning, Heenan rushed forward and pulled his legs out from under him, causing him to fall backwards flat on his back. "Now, now, now!" the Brain shouted, pinning Bret's legs against the apron. Before Bret could rise up, Perfect had jumped on top of him for the cover, and, despite all the Hitman's straining, was able to hold him down for a three count. "The legs; he held the legs, ref!" Bret shouted in protest to the referee, having to bellow to be heard over the screeching-in-delight Perfect and Heenan, now jumping around with his man in the ring.

"Sorry, Hart, didn't see anything like that; therefore, new champion," the referee shook his head, handing the belt to an ecstatic Perfect and raising his hand. Bret slugged the turnbuckle cover in disgust. "I hate it when anyone wins like that!" he grumbled out loud.

"Read it and weep, Hart!" Perfect taunted him, waving the belt in his face as he was formally announced the winner by the ring announcer and his theme roared to life throughout the arena in celebration, "I told you I'd get MY title back!"

"Well enjoy it while you can, Perfect; if that's what you need to do to win it, you're going to have a really short reign," Bret snapped at him, climbing out of the ring and stomping back towards the locker room. "A most disappointing loss for the Hitman, and to be honest, Jesse, I can't really blame him for being upset," McMahon was shaking his head in disgust, "Let's go back and look at the replay: Hart had Mr. Perfect up for the suplex, and then, right there, blatant outside interference by Bobby Heenan to seal the title for his man."

"Give a strong hand for the two of them; that was great teamwork for both of them to finally get Mr. Perfect back the Intercontinental title," Ventura declared proudly.

"Great teamwork my...!" McMahon stopped before he could continue the sentence, listening to a sudden set of instructions flowing from his headset, "Wait just a minute, ladies and gentlemen, I've just received word from the truck that Randy 'Macho Man' Savage has now just entered the building and appears to be heading back towards the locker room; we are now going to go to our cameraman there and see if we can figure out exactly what the story with his abrupt absence was..."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Savage is coming, Mr. Hogan," a page stuck his head in the locker room door.<p>

"All right, finally, about time," Hulk grumbled in frustration. "Where the hell have you been, brother?" he upbraided his colleague as Savage slammed the locker room door open hard, "You're over a half hour late; we're supposed to...!"

"You're gonna shut up right now, yeah!" an absolutely livid, wild-eyed Savage gave Hulk a hard shove, pure anger blanketing his entire face, "I'm only here right now to give you a piece of my mind, and by God I'm not just going to give a piece of it, I'm giving the whole thing, yeah! And I hope you're recording this!" he barked at the cameraman, filming in the corner, "I want the whole world to know what I'm gonna say, yeah!"

"Wait, have you been drinking?" Hulk frowned, sniffing hard at Savage's face, which indeed reeked of heavy alcohol, "You know we're not supposed to drink before matches, even if you're not going to be in the ring...!"

"I said shut up!" Savage shoved him hard again, "I have had it with you, I have had with you for the longest time, you backstabbing hack! It's bad enough you bury me alive and turn me into your houseboy, but weaseling in on my woman, that's as low as it gets!"

"What are you talking about? I haven't...!"

"Don't you play coy with me, hot dog! I heard you in that closet down the hall, putting the moves on Elizabeth, yeah, kissing her...!"

"Randy, we haven't been...!" Elizabeth tried to cut in, fearful. Savage thrust a palm into her face to cut her off. "Don't you dare deny it!" he warned Hulk, thrusting a cold finger in his face, "I was here earlier, I heard the two of you in there, and I know you've been lusting after her; I've seen the lust in your eyes, especially when you grandstanded over me in the ring last week!"

"Come on, Randy, I haven't been in the arena since an hour ago, and neither has Elizabeth!" Hulk protested, "Now come on, you're drunk, you're not thinking clearly..."

"Oh I'm thinking clearer than I have in a long time, yeah!" Savage growled murderously, "I see what your little scheme's been now, yeah! You've been jealous of me from the start; that's why you wanted to bring me so close; that was why you wanted to form the Mega Powers! You're so scared of me you can't even say it! You know I could beat you one-two-three for the title in a heartbeat; that's why you only gave me the one title shot and then tried to weld me to your side! Well, you may be scared of me, but I sure ain't scared of you, yeah, and I am sick and tied of being the third wheel in the Mega Powers! And going after my woman was the last, the absolute last straw!"

"This is ridiculous!" Hulk threw up his arms, "You're totally out of line here, man...!"

"NO, YOU'RE OUTTA LINE!" Savage grabbed him by the collar, "You've been outta line since the day we met, and now I'm gonna give you what you deserve, yeah!"

"Randy, please, don't...!" Elizabeth begged, trying to get between the two of them. Savage growled furiously at her and stepped backwards. "How could you do it!?" he asked her, hurt mixing with the rage in his voice, " I thought it was gonna be the two of us forever. How could you turn around and go at it with him!?"

"Randy, I swear, we're not having an affair!" Elizabeth gestured desperately at Hulk, "I don't know how you can...!"

"I HEARD THE TWO OF YOU!" he roared, "I heard the two of you in that closet, consummating the lust! And to think I trusted both of you with my life...but that was the point, wasn't it?" he glared at Hulk, "You and Roberts were in it together, weren't you? He'd pull out the cobra and have it go to town on my arm, and you'd run out, make the save, and make yourself look like a hero to all your fans, huh? And then you'd use my gratitude to make me your partner and eliminate me as a threat to your title, was that it? Well, thanks to you, Dad's company went out of business. We put everything we had into ICW, and if I hadn't been stupid enough to fall for your tricks, maybe I could have helped save it!"

"This is insane, brother; how could I ever work with a psycho like Jake the Snake!" Hulk rolled his eyes in disgust, "Elizabeth, try and talk some sense into this guy," he asked her, "He's completely lost his mind...!"

There came a sudden angry roar, and in a flash, Savage rushed Hulk and flattened him hard to the floor with a steel chair. "Not so much of a champ now, huh!" he bellowed at Hulk, landing more blows with the chair and ignoring Elizabeth's horrified screams, "How do you think your fans are gonna like you now, huh!"

"Randy, stop, for the love of God, stop!" tears flowing down her face, Elizabeth jumped in front of Hulk and raised her hands high, "What's come over you like this!? Why can't you trust me that I'm not cheating on you!? I love you and only you, Randy, honestly!"

Growling, Savage raised the chair higher. "Randy, don't do it!" came Bret's shocked shout from the door, where he and the rest of Rock 'n Wrestling Connection were now standing, looking just as horrified, "Have you gone completely mad!?"

Breathing hard, Savage glared at them, then down at Elizabeth below him with her hands still raised defensively over the groaning Hulk. "I can see where your loyalties lie now, yeah," he muttered, tears flowing down his own face as he slowly started lowering the chair down, "I thought we had something special. Looks like I was the fool. Well, if you want him, take him, because right now I don't give a damn. And you," he snarled contemptuously at Hulk, "You want to go out and face Flair, you do it on your own; right now, we are through, yeah, and I hope he doesn't just take the title from you, but cripples you for life!"

He slammed the chair to the floor in disgust and stormed towards the door. "Randy, come on...!" Davey tried to block his path.

"Get outta my way!" Savage shoved him aside, as well as Andre when the Giant tried to obstruct him as well, and stomped furiously away up the hall. "Let him go," Bret somberly took Steamboat by the hand when he started to follow, "He needs to be alone right now. Just go get the doctor for Hulk."

* * *

><p>Outside in the arena, McMahon's jaw hung wide open in shock at what the camera had broadcast to all the viewers at home. "Ladies and gentlemen, I...I can't believe we witnessed what we just witnessed," he finally managed to find the words, "Randy Savage turning on Hulk Hogan over allegations of infidelity that for the life of me I can't possibly believe to be true..."<p>

"And I've just got to say, hats off to Macho," Ventura rose up and started clapping, "Finally, somebody was willing to stand up to Hogan for his cowardly actions. Macho has my undying respect for this..."

"Now hold on a minute, Jesse Ventura, let's not jump to conclusions here; I'm sure there's got to be some kind of mistake here by the Macho Man," his broadcast partner tried to rationalize, "The Hulk Hogan I know would never have an affair, much less with the lovely Elizabeth..."

"Well then he hoodwinked you too, McMahon. All that matters is that the Mega Powers are now and forever dead, and Hogan's on his own against Flair and DiBiase, which makes the chance the title will change hands tonight an awful lot higher," the Body leaned back in his chair and started whistling coolly.

"That is, if we even have a match; our medical teams may well rule Hulk Hogan unfit to wrestle tonight if the injuries he's just sustained at the Macho Man's hands prove to be severe enough. I'm getting the instructions from the director right now that we're going to break, and when we return, we'll see if we will end up having a world championship match this evening or not..."


	6. Chapter 6

"Champagne time, boss?" one of the well-dressed men entered the luxurious but darkened parlor, a tub of champagne in hand.

"Not quite yet, Carlo," Don Kennedesco Vincenelli held up a hand from his armchair in front of the TV, on which the Mega Mercenaries were now fighting the Bushwhackers for the tag team titles, "Put it over in the corner for now. I'm pretty confident we'll be breaking it out, though. George," he called to another goon watching nearby, "Remind me to give Ventura a big raise once this is all over and done with and we have him installed as the next WWF President for coming up with the idea of exploding the Mega Powers."

"You got it, boss," George pulled out a notepad and made a mental note, "I guess Heenan gets one too for that quick thinking to get Perfect the Intercontinental gold back too?"

"I believe so, yes. Who knew Heenan had the brains in him to pull it off, am I right, Killer?" the don turned to his pet porcupine in his lap, "Well, he does deserve credit for quick thinking..."

"Oh yeah, here we go, successful defense coming right up!" the don's nephew Stefano shouted in delight right in front of the set, on which the Iron Sheik nailed Bushwhacker Luke in the back of the head with Blassie's cane as he was bouncing off the rope to drop an elbow on top of a prostrate Nikolai Volkoff. Luke stumbled and fell flat on his face inches from Volkoff, who quickly crawled over for the cover, taking care to grab the ropes for extra leverage to ensure a three count. "Jackpot!" Stefano punched excitedly at the air, "One more match and the WWF's ours, right Uncle Kenny?"

"Assuming all goes well, Stefano, and I'm confident it will," Don Vincenelli sighed dreamily. "It's just about here, Killer," he told the porcupine, "Ever since I got into the wrestling racket, I've wanted the monopoly. Now, all I need is for Hogan to go down, and all three WWF titles to be in the hands of guys working for me, and I've got that monopoly."

"As long as he goes out and wrestles of course, boss," another mobster in the corner spoke up, "If Macho beat him too good..."

"Not to worry, Louis," the don assured him, "Hogan would never disappoint his fans even if he was practically catatonic. He'll step into the ring with Flair, but he's not stepping out as champion with Phase II in effect..."

* * *

><p>"What's your analysis, Doctor?" a grim-faced Tunney asked the doctor examining Hulk on the locker room floor.<p>

"No lasting damage; just welts here and there," the doctor proclaimed, "I still wouldn't advise him going into the ring after what he just went through, but it's Mr. Hogan's decision."

"Then what are we waiting for; I'm heading out," Hulk rose to his feet.

"Are you absolutely sure, Hulk?" Andre asked him, concerned.

"Hey, I made a vow to all my little Hulksters that I wouldn't walk away from a fight," the champion told the Giant firmly, "I signed that contract with Flair, and I'm going out there and honoring it; I can beat him no matter who's in my corner, if anyone."

"You probably still should have someone there, Hulk," Bret spoke up from the corner, where he was trying to console a hysterically sobbing Elizabeth, "Anyone want to volunteer?"

"I'll do it," the Boss Man raised his hand, "DiBiase needs to be taught a little law and order anyway-if it's OK," he turned to Tunney for confirmation.

"That's OK," Tunney nodded, "But Hulk," he turned solemnly to the champion, "as with the last time you faced Flair, if it looks at any point like you can't go on, I'll have to stop the match and declare Flair the champion."

"I can do it, Mr. Tunney; don't stop anything," Hulk begged him, "I'm going out there and scoring the biggest win of my career."

"Very well then. Good luck to you," Tunney cast a sympathetic glance at the crying Elizabeth before leaving the locker room. Hulk sighed sadly and slumped his head against the wall. "What could have set him off like that?" he lamented, "I've never seen him that angry, even when he was with Sherri..."

"We warned you it was getting to that level, Hulk," Davey shook his head softly, "Why wouldn't you listen to us that it was starting to gnaw away at him?"

"I just...I didn't think it would ever get to that, brother, that Elizabeth would be able to keep him in check for anything like this," Hulk admitted, prompting another loud burst of grief from the First Lady of Wrestling in the corner. "No, no, Liz, I didn't mean it like that," he hastily corrected himself, "I meant that, I knew he'd listen to you; I don't know why he didn't this time."

"I think it was just the perfect storm, Hulk," the British Bulldog conceded, "Jealousy over how long your reign was going coupled with the failure of his father's promotion and his elimination in the Rumble, all coming together to cause this." He sighed loudly. "I just hope he'll be back soon and apologize for all this..."

"Curtain time, Mr. Hogan," a page stuck his head in the door. Hulk took a deep breath. "Well, let's go do it," he told the Boss Man, who hefted his nightstick, "Time to show Flair even something like this won't stop Hulkamania."

"Don't do anything rash in there, Hulk; this isn't the time for anything risky after what you've gone through," Bret gave him one last piece of advice as Hulk and the Boss Man left for their entrance. The Hitman gently put an arm around Elizabeth. "Feeling any better now?" he asked her softly.

"No," she confessed tearfully, shaking her head, "What turned him into this? Was it something I...?"

"Liz, Liz, don't blame yourself; this is not your fault at all," he assured her, "Now you said he appeared to have been drinking; maybe once he sobers up, he'll clear up and realize the full extent of what he did. He loves you too much not to."

"I don't know; he seemed pretty emphatic about it being over!" she wasn't placated, "He means as much to me as he said I did to him; what am I going to do if...if...if it is over...!"

"Well, let's cross that bridge only if we get to it," Bret offered her some comfort, "Right now, just hope for the best...very hard."

"I wasn't cheating on him, Bret; I swear with all my heart and soul I wasn't cheating, with Hulk or anyone! I'd never even look at another man besides him! You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he took her hand, "I really don't know where he got the idea from-although," he started frowning, "I DO have some pretty strong ideas..."

"How about you?" she asked him, "Upset over losing your belt..."

"Well, I guess I am rather frustrated Heenan and Perfect had to cheat to get it, but my father always said just to do your best in the ring; the cheating is on their record, the whole crowd and TV audience saw it, and it's their guilt to carry as long as Perfect holds the title. I did my best and I'm proud of that; it's just a title, and there're others out there. Now let's just hope," he started frowning again, "That Blassie and Flair don't resort to cheating as well in the world title match..."

* * *

><p>"Well Ric, this is it," Blassie told his charge proudly from their position behind the curtain, "Are you ready to meet your destiny?"<p>

"You bet I'm ready, Freddie; WOOOOOOO!" Flair declared loudly.

"That's what I want to hear. Everything look good out there, Ted?" Blassie asked the Million Dollar Man, who was scanning the ring through the curtains.

"Yep, everything appears set, Freddie," DiBiase nodded. "Now Virgil, you know where to put it?" he asked his bodyguard, who was carrying a large steel briefcase. Virgil nodded firmly. "All right then, time to deliver Vincenelli the WWF on a silver platter and get handsomely rewarded for it," the Million Dollar Man cackled as the bell rang for the main event and "Thus Spake Flairathustra" rose to life over the loudspeakers.

"You know we'll be rewarded. Let's go, champ," Blassie waved Flair through the curtains towards the ring, waving his cane in rhythm with the music. "A very confident Nature Boy and 'Classy' Freddie Blassie making their way to ringside, with the Million Dollar Man and Virgil to be in their corner as well," McMahon noted from the broadcast position, "And indeed, we do now have official confirmation that Hulk Hogan is in good enough condition to defend his title, so let's see if the Macho Man's attack will have any effect on him at all."

"Don't try and downplay it, McMahon; Hogan has been weakened, and he's at a disadvantage in this one whether you're willing to admit it or not," Ventura countered.

That remains to be seen. In the meantime, Virgil with a briefcase for whatever reason," McMahon frowned at it, "I'll admit I'm not really sure why Virgil needs to be at ringside with his boss for this one..."

"Oh didn't you get the memo; DiBiase refused to participate without Virgil. Read all the facts, McMahon."

McMahon put a hand over his mouthpiece. "You're pushing it," he warned the Body, "I've had it up to here with your biased announcing, Ventura..."

"Nothing you haven't done the other way, McMahon," Ventura shot back. McMahon groaned in disgust. "Ric Flair removing his robe, and it appears he did not bring his Real World's Champion belt with him this time..." he continued the commentary.

"Of course not; he knows that when all's said and done in this one, he'll have the WWF world championship belt, so no need to bring the other one with him tonight."

"But let us remember, the only way he can get it is to either pin Hulk Hogan or make him submit; a countout or disqualification will do no good. We're now awaiting the Hulkster...and here he comes!" McMahon exclaimed as "Real American" rang out and the crowd exploded, "Here comes the Hulkster through the curtain, accompanied now by his fellow teammate in the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, the Big Boss Man, and in spite of what we just witnessed transpiring backstage, he seems in fact in reasonably good health to me, Jesse."

"Well appearances can be deceiving; for one thing, we both know Hogan has a broken heart from Macho standing up to him; further, we both know Flair's going to exploit every injury he can."

"Yes I know, because Ric Flair is a craven opportunist who loves rubbing salt into wounds-and there it goes!" McMahon proclaimed as Hulk ripped his T-shirt again, then flung the remains contemptuously at Flair and Blassie, followed by his head scarf, "Hulk Hogan very much in a fighting spirit tonight. He now hands the World Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Championship belt to referee Dave Hebner, who hands it to the timekeeper, and now checks both men for any illegal weapons; with all his years of exeprience here in the WWF, I can't think of a more fitting man to officiate this match than Dave Hebner."

"For once, we're in agreement, McMahon; neither can I," Ventura grinned deeply.

"And there goes the bell, and here we go for the world title!" McMahon leaned forward in anticipation in his seat, "And look at this, the Hulkster pounding away hard on Flair right off the bat; he's sending the message that even though the Macho Man did a number on him backstage, he's still going out and fighting for all it's worth! Hogan sends Flair into the far ropes, bounces off the near ropes himself, and look out, down goes Flair with a flying tackle, and a cover; it could be over already...!"

"No it ain't," Ventura smirked as Flair kicked out at two, "And a good count there by Hebner; I usually don't trust him with Hogan, but that seemed like a fair count to me."

"And for once, I agree with you completely, Jesse; a fair count by the almost always reliable Dave Hebner. Hulk Hogan back up, sends Flair into the ropes again, and whoa, a roundhouse right sends the Nature Boy stumbling! Hulkster hurls him hard into the corner, and now the big splash-and he's up on Flair's shoulders and slugging away: two, three, four, five, six, seve, eight, nine, ten. Flair stumbles out of the...ooooooohh yeah!" McMahon roared in approval as Flair fell flat on his face in the middle of the ring after a few steps. Hulk dove on top of him for another cover, but again could only manage a two count. "Flair goes hard into the corner again; Hulkster rushes-no, Flair gets the legs up-and Hulk grabs them and slams the Nature Boy down like he's cracking a whip!"

"Yeah, that was a REALLY fair move on Flair by Hogan; I think he intended to break Flair's legs there."

"Hulk Hogan does not fight to cripple, which is much more than can be said about his opponent. Freddie Blassie and Ted DiBiase shouting at their man to try and mount some offense, but so far it's been all the champion in this one, as he now scoops Flair up and delivers a hard slam. Hulkster going up to the top rope; he's going for another coup de grace, it appears. Hulkster leaps...but Flair catches him in the chest with the knees. Hulkster stumbles in agony towards the ropes, hanging partly over the ropes...and look at this, DiBiase with a cheap shot on him! And another one! But here comes the Big Boss Man with his nightstick, and he sends the Million Dollar Man running for his life!"

"Yeah, threaten DiBiase with a weapon; that goes a LONG way to making Hogan look like a REAL hero."

"That nightstick has been cleared as being legal at ringside, and as you can remember, the Big Boss Man has not misused it since he left Freddie Blassie's employ."

"All to his detriment, I say."

"Speaking of detrimental, things have abruptly gotten somewhat detrimental for the champion now; Flair with a tremendous suplex of the Hulkster in the middle of the ring-and the cover; one, two...just managed to escape there. Hulkster sent hard into the ropes and felled with a right hook. Flair looking much more confident now, whipping the champion into the corner and now ramming his head hard into Hogan's chest...and again...and again...and again. Hulkster stumbling to his knees after...oh come on, Virgil now choking him out from outside the ropes, and he adds a cheap shot to boot; turn around, Mr. Hebner!"

"He doesn't have eyes in the back of his head, McMahon; he can't call everything."

"Virgil releasing the champion the moment Hebner turns around...and now he looks like he's sliding that briefcase of his under the ring for whatever reason..." McMahon's eyes narrowed at the briefcase being pushed out of sight, "Meanwhile, Flair driving his knees into the Hulkster's chest repeatedly; now doing the same with the elbow. And another cover: one, two...just escaped the three count there."

"That's the problem; Hogan expended all his energy too early in this one; now he's got nothing left in the tank."

"It may appear that way now, but you and I have seen repeatedly on Saturday Night's Main Event that Hulk Hogan can often find that little something extra when it appears he's been beaten; perhaps the luck will be with him again tonight."

"I don't think so..."

"Flair hurls the Hulkster so hard into the corner he spins head over heels," McMahon grimaced at the move, "And I believe-yes, his legs are caught in the ropes. Flair nonetheless kicking away at him with no regard for his helpless position-and now he slams his head into the ringpost; come on!"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again, McMahon; you win any way you can."

"Yes, I know, Jesse, and it's getting very tiresome to have to hear it over and over again. Dave Hebner finally releases the champion, only for Flair to begin stomping in the groin area..."

"He's setting him up for the Figure Four; this could be the change of the title right here. Two titles in one night; who'd've thought it?"

"The title hasn't changed hands yet. Flair, however, now in fact giving the signal for the Figure Four Leglock, and he's grabbing hold of the Hulkster's legs and preparing to...NO, HOGAN WITH A TREMENDOUS KICKOUT, AND FLAIR GOES FLYING HARD INTO THE FAR RINGPOST!" he roared in excitement, as did the entire Bradley Center, "And the Hulkster getting back to his feet with that familiar wide-eyed expression; I think the tide has turned again, perhaps this time for good!"

"You said not to count Flair's chickens before they hatched, McMahon; I'm not counting Hogan's before they hatch either," the Body folded his arms defiantly across his chest, while seemingly staring impatiently at Hebner in the ring.

"Ric Flair back over and giving a hard left and then a right, but Hulk Hogan feeling none of it-and there's the finger being waved in the Nature Boy's face! Hard kick to Flair's chest, and another one, and a hard clothesline sends him flying out of the ring; listen to the ovation by the fans here!"

"Yeah, and if I lose my hearing, I'm suing every last one of them."

"Blassie with some furious words to his man, looks like he's telling him, 'Don't get pinned whatever you do.' Ric Flair climbing back into the ring-and Hogan clotheslines him right back down to the mat!"

"MORE poor sportsmanship by Hogan; I don't know how all his Pukesters can put up with him!"

"It's HULKSTERS, if you don't mind. DiBiase helping Flair back into the ring, but the Nature Boy simply gets pounded on the back hard by the champion. A look at the Big Boss Man encouraging his friend on in the Hulkster's corner; he has thus far proven a valuable replacement for Randy Savage this evening."

"How? All he did was try and attack poor Ted DiBiase."

"After DiBiase was attacking Hulk Hogan, and therefore...big slam of Flair by the Hulkster!" McMahon bellowed excitedly, "The champion cupping his hand to his ear to soak up the applause-and here comes the leg drop; this one's all over but the shouting...!"

But at the exact moment Hulk reached the ropes for the finishing rebound, he felt DiBiase and Virgil grab his legs from behind. He stumbled and lost his balance, falling down right next to Flair. Before he could fully recover, the Nature Boy picked him up and gave him a tremendous suplex, then dove on him for the cover, hooking the leg for extra insurance. Hulk strained with all his might and managed to get his shoulder well off the mat at the count of two...

...but Hebner's hand suddenly hit the mat a third time, and then waved for the bell. "What...no, no!" panicked, Hulk jumped to his feet as Flair let out a loud whoop of excited victory, "No, no, that was only two; I had the shoulder up!"

"Three count; new champion!" Hebner announced to the timekeeper, climbing out of the ring to retrieve the belt.

"No, come on, Hebner; the shoulder was up; you had to have seen it!" Hulk all but begged him.

"Three count, new champion!" Hebner repeated sharply at him, walking briskly towards Flair's corner, where the Nature Boy was ecstatically hugging Blassie, "Congratulations, Mr. Flair; you are the new champion," he called up to him, climbing into the ring to present the belt.

"HE GOT HIM! HE GOT HIM!" up at the broadcast position, Ventura was leaping out of his chair in delight, "We finally have a new champion of the world!"

"No we don't; that was only two!" McMahon looked pale and stunned, "Hulk Hogan's shoulder was clearly up; I don't know how a man with so many years officiating as Dave Hebner could possibly have missed that! He can't be giving Flair the title, he just can't be!"

"Watch and weep, McMahon, it's official; Hulkamania is dead at last!" Ventura gestured grandly at Hebner as he handed Flair the belt and raised his hand to a loud, "WOOOOOOO!" of delight from the Nature Boy.

"I can't believe this! Hebner made the STUPIDEST mistake! This can't be allowed to stand; if I were Hulk Hogan, I'd file a formal protest right away; this can't be how it goes down, on the most boneheaded officiating call I've ever seen!"

"Hogan can rant all he wants, McMahon, but a referee's decision is always final, and that means Flair's the champion. So congratulations to him, congratulations to Freddie Blassie; they've reached the top of the mountain at last!"

"Complete chaos here; Freddie Blassie waving the belt high, taunting a stunned Hulk Hogan in the ring with it as he and Flair start to leave with DiBiase and Virgil, who I hope are proud of themselves for such blatant interference on their part to help set up that controversial call!"

"Hey, Flair was given the choice to have anyone in his corner he wanted, and he chose the right guy in DiBiase, and now, Freddie Blassie finally has the world title back because of that intelligence."

"I can't believe he's got the world title back like this! Let's take a look at the replay here: Flair suplexes him and goes right for the cover-and right there, the shoulder was so far up you could have put a large pillow under it, and Hebner keeps counting; how can anyone make such a _stupid_ mistake!"

"Well he's not all powerful, McMahon; he's calling it as he sees it."

"But it doesn't seem fair; for Hulk Hogan's reign to end like this, it's...wait a minute, who's that running towards the...WAIT A MINUTE, WHAT IS THIS? WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!" McMahon jerked up out of his seat, shocked, as another man abruptly ran into the ring and started shouting in Hebner's face, "Is THAT Dave Hebner, or is THAT Dave Hebner...?"

And indeed, when a heartbroken Hulk turned around in the ring, his eyes widened to suddenly see two Dave Hebners standing in the middle of the ring, shouting angrily in each others' faces. For both men were complete mirror images of each other as far as he could tell. "Hey, what is this?" he demanded, fury rising inside himself as he stormed over and grabbed both Hebners by the collar, "What the hell's going on here! Who's the real Hebner!"

"I am! Don't listen to him, Hulk; _he's_ the impostor!" both Hebners shouted in unison, pointing at each other desperately.

"What the hell is this!" the Boss Man echoed Hulk's words as he climbed into the ring and glared at the twin officials, "What are you guys trying to pull here!"

"He's a faker; he tried to impersonate me!" both Hebners again begged simultaneously, pointing accusingly at each other. Hulk slapped both hands to his face. "Tricked out of the title by a lookalike ref; how much money did DiBiase spend on plastic surgery, brother!" he lamented to the former prison guard, "How do we know the real Hebner, man?"

"Let's try the fingerprints; even twins have different ones. Show me your hands, boy!" the Boss Man grabbed for the fingers of the Hebner on the right. This Hebner, however, abruptly shoved him to the mat and dove out of the ring, groping under the apron for Virgil's briefcase. "Look at that, that one's got to be the fake; yes, he's taking the money and running!" McMahon declared.

"Now how do you know there's money in the briefcase, McMahon? It could be Virgil's laundry for all we know," Ventura countered. His question was answered, however, when the Boss Man dove off the apron and knocked the Hebner in question into the timekeeper's table, which knocked the briefcase open and spilled piles and piles of greenbacks everywhere. Looking furious at the attempted payoff, the former prison guard drew his handcuffs, but the apparently fake Hebner kicked him where it really hurt, grabbed two large handfulls of dollar bills, and ran like crazy for the exit. "Get back here, you cheating crook!" the Boss Man thundered, waving his nightstick wildly as he gave chase. Hulk leaped out of the ring and followed his teammate after the impostor, leaving the apparently real Hebner to catch his breath in the ring. "Total confusion and chaos here right now; there had to be some chicanery on the Million Dollar Man's part with everything that went down here tonight," McMahon declared confidently to the home viewers, "Rest assured, wrestling fans, there will be a full and complete investigation into all of this by the World Wrestling Federation, so it's possible Ric Flair may not be holding on to the title much longer after tonight..."

* * *

><p>"Wrong, McMahon; he's going to hold it as long as I want him to hold it," Don Vincenelli smiled grandly, staring around with pride as his men celebrated all around him in the parlor. "Carlo, break out the champagne now," he told his henchman, who started popping bottles, "As of now, the World Wrestling Federation is officially ours for good."<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

"...we welcome you to another episode of Superstars of Wrestling; Vince McMahon here with Jesse 'the Body' Ventura, and of course, the one thing on everyone's mind is the turn of events last week that made Ric Flair World Wrestling Federation champion," McMahon opened the weekly show.

"And I give Flair a strong commendation; no one believed he could end Hulkamania for good, and he did," Ventura declared proudly.

"Sure, with some help from a double referee," McMahon glared at him, "Over the course of the past week, World Wrestling Federation President Jack Tunney has been examining the rulebook and bylaws; we are expecting a news conference from him any minute now, so let's take you to Gene Okerlund backstage with the coverage."

Backstage, Okerlund turned to the camera in the middle of the conference room. "All right, Vince, any minute now, we will learn with absolute certainty whether Ric Flair will be upheld as World Wrestling Federation Champion, or if Hulk Hogan will have the title restored. Or, perhaps, neither man will get the belt, and it will be declared vacated. So much suspense surrounds the decision, and, perhaps, the course of World Wrestling Federation history is riding on all this. As you can see at the tables behind me, the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection and the Million Dollar Corporation have all been summoned to hear the decision," he gestured to both factions at opposing tables around the central podium, "and let's hope-and in fact, I see Hulk Hogan approaching now with the First Lady of Wrestling, Elizabeth; Hulkster," he approached the former champion, "Do you feel confident that you will have the World Wrestling Federation championship restored to you?"

"Absolutely, Mean Gene; given the trickery Flair resorted to to get it, the only intelligent thing to do would be to give me the title back. Ric Flair doesn't deserve the WWF championship, and neither does Freddie Blassie," Hulk declared confidently.

"Well, best of wishes for you with this. Now, if I may inquire, if it's not too personal, have you heard any news about Randy Savage's whereabouts the last few days?"

"No, unfortunately not, Mean Gene," Hulk admitted, putting an arm around Elizabeth when she started sniffing softly, "It's clear he needed some time off after what happened in Milwaukee. But we don't know where he is, and nobody he knows has heard from him either. I hope he comes back soon..."

"Forget it, Hogan; you drove your life partner away by cheating with his woman," Blassie snickered as he and Flair entered the conference room.

"I was not having an affair with Elizabeth, Blassie!" Hulk upbraided him, "And why do I suspect you helped start this whole thing?"

"Prove it, you pencil-neck geek," the Classy One dared him. "Well, now that your knight in shining armor seems to have dumped you," he turned coldly towards Elizabeth, "there's no need for you in professional wrestling anymore, so why not take a hike before...?"

"She's going to be in my corner until Randy comes back, Blassie, so lay off her for once in your life!" Hulk warned him.

"You really think she can get you the title back when she couldn't get the Macho Moron to the top? Oh, yeah, I forgot, you blocked him from the top." the Hollywood Fashion Plate taunted his former charge.

"Well, not to worry, babe; I'm always open for second chances, and if you're willing to grovel at my feet and say you were sorry for treating me like garbage before, I'd be willing to let you have one last shot at Space Mountain," Flair told Elizabeth with a big, conceited smile.

"Go to hell, Ric," she told him off, sniffing again.

"OK, have it your way, but I'll tell you right now, Macho ain't coming back; now that he knows you're a two-timer..."

"An outright slut's more like it, Ric," Blassie corrected him sharply with a dark grin.

"I'm warning you, Blassie, you're pushing it...!" Hulk threatened him.

"You can rant all you want, Hogan, but it's not getting you this back," Flair hefted the world championship belt and waved it tauntingly in Hulk's face, "It's all mine now, and I'm going to be upheld as champion in a few minutes, WOOOOO!"

"Dream on, Flair; I'm getting the belt back!" Hulk shot back.

"You couldn't get a...!" Flair was interrupted as everyone else in the room rose up in deference to Tunney as the company president entered and walked to the podium. "Thank you for coming, all of you," he greeted everyone in the room to the blinking of flashbulbs, "Please be seated."

He gestured Hulk, Flair, and their managers to seats right next to his podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, honored members of the press," he told them all, "As you all know, last Saturday night was one of the most confusing and infamous moments in the history of professional wrestling. In response to the controversy over the finish of the Hogan-Flair match, I have ordered a full investigation of the events that transpired in that match. My findings are as follows."

He put on a set of reading glasses and took a piece of paper out of a manila envelope. "Two weeks ago, on January 26th, Ted DiBiase approached Earl Hebner, identical twin of assigned referee Dave Hebner, and offered him the sum of twenty-five million dollars to take Dave's place in the match, which Earl accepted..."

"That's a lie!" DiBiase rose to his feet, offended, "I don't know any Earl Hebner...!"

"Order in the room!" Tunney barked at him. "On the evening of February 5th," he continued his summation, "Dave Hebner was getting dressed for his match in the officials' locker room, when Virgil Jones entered, jumped him from behind, and locked him in his locker. Virgil then let Earl Hebner in through the back door, whereupon Earl proceded to take his brother's place as match referee. By the time Dave managed to alert others to his predicament, it was too late, and the match had already been decided."

He laid the paper down and stared out at the press members watching him eagerly. "Undoubtedly, your first question will be how this affects the world title," he told them solemnly, "After carefully reviewing the rulebook and guidelines, my decision is thus: Earl Hebner was in fact licensed to officiate in the state of Wisconsin, and that despite the crooked nature of the officiating in the match, the referee's decision in any wrestling event is final. Therefore, it is with more than a little reluctance that I officially uphold Ric Flair as World Wrestling Federation champion."

"WOOOOOO!" Flair roared in delight, high fiving an equally ecstatic Blassie. "You lose, Hogan!" he taunted a crestfallen Hulk across from him, "I told you I'd get...!"

"However," Tunney held up his hands, bringing the room to silence, "I make this decision with several conditions attached, and they are as follows."

He hefted another piece of paper. "First, referee Earl Hebner is hereby suspended from officiating in the World Wrestling Federation for a period of five years," he announced, "Second, Ted DiBiase is hereby ordered to repay the twenty-five million dollars given to Earl Hebner to throw the Hogan-Flair match to a charity or charities to be chosen by the World Wrestling Federation..."

"No, no, no; I don't give my money to any crap charities!" the Million Dollar Man bellowed indignantly, "I don't care if...!"

"Failure to comply with this directive in full will result in a lifetime suspension for Ted DiBiase," Tunney barked sharply at him, bringing DiBiase to silence. "Third," the company president continued, "Virgil Jones is hereby suspended from the World Wrestling Federation without pay for the period of one month, with the warning that a second offense of this magnitude will result in a lifetime ban..."

With an angry growl, Virgil rose to his feet, flexing his muscles. "Easy, Virgil, easy; it'll be OK," Jimmy took him by the shoulder and pulled him back down, "We've got the title, that's all that counts."

"Fourth," Tunney went on, "I am hereby ordering a return match between Hulk Hogan and Ric Flair, to be contested as the main event at WrestleMania. Failure by Ric Flair to honor this decision, which will bear the weight of a formally signed match, will result in the title being stripped from him and declared officially vacated. Are there any questions?"

"What efforts will be taken to ensure Earl Hebner will not take Dave Hebner's place again?" came a question from the back of the pack of reporters.

"I have had both Hebners fingerprinted for identification purposes," Tunney explained, "Dave's will be verified every time he steps into the ring, especially at WrestleMania, to ensure Earl does not attempt to circumvent the ban. Any others?"

"What if anything will happen if Ric Flair is successful in defending the title at WrestleMania?" came another question.

"Ric Flair will then face each of the top ten contenders for the world title every week on Superstars of Wrestling for the ten weeks following WrestleMania," the WWF president declared, visibly turning to glare at the now scowling Flair and Blassie, "If he is able to successfully defend the title in each of these matches, a new top ten list will be drawn up, and the cycle repeated until Ric Flair is officially defeated for the World Wrestling Federation title. Any more questions?"

This time there was none. "All right, then, I thank you all for coming," he thanked the press, "The wrestlers will be open for questioning after this week's Superstars show, so please hold any inquiries with them until later."

He left the podium, leaving the reporters to mumble among themselves. "Well, that went rather well, actually, don't you think, Hulk?" Steamboat patted the former champ on the shoulder at the Connection's table.

"Wish they'd just given the belt back to me," Hulk was still glum.

"Don't fret, Boss; you'll get it back easily, now that he has to defend it cleanly," Andre assured him, "In fact, I'd say you're...is something wrong, Hitman?" he noticed Bret's deep frown.

"Well, Andre, it's just that...this whole scenario with the twin referees seems awfully familiar to me," Bret admitted, frowning at the Million Dollar Corporation in their own group huddle across from them, "I kind of remember us doing something like this in Stampede at one point-I was only about six or seven at the time, and I don't remember any specifics, but I do remember the lookalike refs."

"So what're you saying, Hart; someone in your family helped get Flair the title?" the Boss Man frowned himself.

"I don't want to believe it, Boss Man, but...it just seems a little too similar to be a coincidence. I'm going to give Wayne a call after today's taping and see what he remembers about the match in question; since he's practically a wrestling encyclopedia, he's bound to flesh out the memories," the Hitman declared, "And if it matches closely enough," his expression fell, "then we may have to face the possibility that Flair may have had some outside help on this from my family..."

"But who? Who in the Harts would be desperate enough to propose something like this to get Ric the championship?" Elizabeth had to ask.

"Probably whoever it was that forged Mr. Hart's name onto the form to sell the house at the Survivor Series," Hulk realized, "And that still could have been anyone."

"I'd bet the oldest one; he wanted the extra money and decided selling out to Flair was the best way to get it," Piper theorized confidently.

"Well, Roddy, I know Smith's a lazy gambler, but I'm not sure if he'd have the intelligence for a plan this complex," Bret pointed out, his brow furled, "I suspect there was a lot more behind Flair getting the title than just a wayward Hart, if there is a wayward Hart here."

"The mob theory again, huh?" Hulk nodded, "Well, I wouldn't doubt it; I had some strong questions about the viability of several of the territories before I came here to the WWF. But Mr. Tunney wouldn't let the mob into the WWF..."

"I know that, Hulk, but the with the Million Dollar Corporation now holding all the belts, now would be a time to do it if the mob wanted to," Bret pointed out somberly, "So, after the taping, maybe we should all go see what if anything Mr. Tunney might know..."

Across the room, Jimmy was glaring back at Hulk from amid the huddle of managers. "Well, I hate to break the bubble, but it looks like Hogan and his life partners might be starting to get on to us," he mumbled, noticing Bret was glaring at he and his cohorts in turn.

"It won't do them any good, Jimmy; we have all the titles, and we have the power of the Vincenelli Family behind us," Heenan said confidently.

"I still don't like it, Bobby, putting Ric through the spin cycle against the top competitors even if he wins at WrestleMania," the Mouth of the South griped, "And you can bet Tunney's going to line up every single one of Hulk's friends to give them a fair shot..."

"Well, let's not panic, Jimmy; first, let's note that Tunney wants Hogan to get first shot at the gold at WrestleMania," Blassie pointed out.

"And?"

"And, it seems to me Tunney's staking an awful lot of his hold on the company onto the presumption Hogan's going to win that match. But, suppose he never even made it to the match at all..." a dark smile crossed the Classy One's face.

"We can't have him whacked right after the twin ref job," Sherri protested, "There's too much attention already...!"

"I don't think he meant that, Miss Martel, tempting though it is to consider," Bearer was grinning, "As it so happens, I was slated to have Hogan on my Funeral Parlor segment this afternoon, so I could gloat over him losing the title. If I'm not mistaken, Freddie," he turned to Blassie, "You'd prefer we do a lot more...?"

"Oh you know it, Paul," Blassie's dark smile grew wider, "And they can't stop us when it's happening on live TV. So, all of you," he pulled the managers close, "Tell the rest of the Corporation that..."

* * *

><p>"Weeeeeellcome one and all, welcome to my funeral parlor," Bearer moaned to the arena crowd and TV viewers later on the set made up to look like his actual funeral parlor, "My guest this week has suffered an abrupt fall from grace, losing the title in an ending that was most tragic. Won't you please welcome, for some appropriate comments, former WWF champion, Hulk Hogan."<p>

The arena audience gave Hulk a standing ovation as he and Elizabeth came out to the mock parlor. "How does it feel, Hulk Hogan, to be officially without the precious world title you hold so dear?" the mortician asked him with a dark smile.

"Well you know something, Paul Bearer, I respect Mr. Tunney's decision, because even though he let Flair keep the gold for now, he was smart enough to acknowledge I was cheated and give me another chance. And so, with the guidance of the lovely Elizabeth," he thrust her arm high, "I WILL regain the title at WrestleMania, and show Ric Flair and Freddie Blassie that no lookalike referee is going to keep the real champion from what he actually earned."

The crowd erupted again. "You may think you have the inside shot to title, Hulk Hogan, but I think I can accurately sum up your future much better with this," Bearer gestured to the coffin inside the parlor-a coffin with HULKAMANIA FOREVER on the sides. "This is emblematic of your career, which now is officially...dead. Ric Flair killed Hulkamania for good, and entrusted me to bury it, once and for all. You'll be pleased to note this coffin has been made to your exact specifications..."

"Listen good, Paul Bearer!" Hulk grabbed him by the tie, "I don't care what you and Ric Flair say; Hulkamania will live forever!" He soaked up the crowd applause before shouting in the mortician's face, "And I'm getting rather tired of you and Flair taunting me over the chicanery he pulled to get the belt! If he was here right now, I'd give him a big piece of my mind!"

"Why dwell on 'if?' Introducing, ladies and gentlemen, my other guest this week, the REAL World Wrestling Federation champion, Ric Flair," Bearer gestured to the wings, where Flair and Blassie confidently stepped forward. "Hello again, you pencil-neck geek," Blassie greeted his former charge coldly, "Figured I'd take another chance to point out that you're not the champion anymore."

"You want it, come and get it, WOOOO!" Flair waved the belt tauntingly in the former champion's face again, jerking it away when Hulk grabbed for it.

"I'm not scared of you, Flair!" Hulk threatened him, grabbing him by the collar, "The die is cast, and at WrestleMania, with the lovely Elizabeth in my corner, I will take back the title, and prove that you and Blassie are the ones who have no business in professional wrestling! So whatcha gonna do when the twenty-four inch pythons run wild over both of you!?"

The crowd exploded again. "Talk is cheap, Hogan," Blassie yawned confidently, "And I can guarantee," his eyes darted to the far wings, and then to an upright wooden coffin in the corner of the Funeral Parlor set, "That neither you nor the hench wench here," he jerked a contemptuous finger at Elizabeth, "Are going to even make it to WrestleMania in the first place."

"You can run your mouth off all you want, Blassie, but Hulkamania cannot be stopped by you or anyone!" Hulk declared grandly. Neither he nor Elizabeth noticed the upright coffin's lid creaking slowly open behind them-but, at the broadcast position, McMahon did. "Wait a minute, the Undertaker inside the coffin behind the Hulkster," he realized, gulping loudly, "Undertaker coming out; turn around, Hulkster...!"

But it was too late; the Undertaker felled Hulk to the floor with a hard chop from behind, accentuated by Elizabeth's scream and Bearer's maniacal laughter. "Undertaker with a sneak attack from behind, and now he continues to whale away on the Hulkster!" McMahon rambled off the breathless blow-by-blow account for the home viewers, "Blassie urging the Undertaker on; Hulkster trying to fight back, but the Undertaker all over him; what a cheap shot there! And Paul Bearer handing him an urn-oh no, he just bashed Hulk Hogan over the head with it! And...wait a minute, here comes Ted DiBiase onto the set, and he's got a steel chair! Turn around...!" he begged Hulk again, but again it was too late, as the Million Dollar Man belted Hulk hard in the back with the chair. "News flash, you peon!" he taunted Hulk, kicking him hard as well, "You're not going to WrestleMania!"

He whistled towards the wings. "Wait a minute, here comes the entire Million Dollar Corporation!" McMahon gasped in shock, "Elizabeth trying desperately to shield Hulk Hogan, but Sherri yanking her off and holding her tightly in place; I think she's hurting her arm! Million Dollar Corporation belting and kicking Hulk Hogan as one; now Freddie Blassie flings his cane to Nikolai Volkoff, and the big Russian nailing the Hulkster with it...!"

"He's waited a long time for that, McMahon, ever since Hogan humiliated him in front of his countrymen at Christmas," Ventura remarked casually next to him.

"It wasn't Hulk Hogan's fault that Volkoff showed up drunk for that match-and the Iron Sheik choking Hulk out with the microphone cable! This is not sportsmanship; this is one of the biggest disgraces in the history of professional wrestling! Blassie getting in some kicks of his own, and now he's saying something to Mr. Perfect, I can't quite...Mr. Perfect hefting Hulk Hogan up, and it looks like he's going to give him the PerfectPlex...oh no, he PerfectPlexed him right onto that steel coffin! Mr. Perfect shoves the Hulkster to Jake the Snake, who hooks him into position-and there goes the DDT! Hulk Hogan taking a terrific beating here...and now a second DDT from Roberts! Jake the Snake shoves him towards the Undertaker, who hefts him up over his head; he's going to give him a Tombstone on top of everything...!?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Flair ran forwards waving his arms, stopping the Undertaker before he could deliver the Tombstone. The Nature Boy took hold of DiBiase's chair and laid it on top of the steel coffin, "OK, now!"

With a low grunt, the Undertaker Tombstoned Hulk on top of the chair, ignoring Elizabeth's tearful shrieks as Sherri forced her to watch. "Hulk Hogan taking the worst possible Tombstone-and now he's dumped into Rick Rude's arms; is he going to also get-oh no!" McMahon grimaced as the Ravishing One indeed gave him a Rude Awakening, "How much more punishment can one man take!?"

"Well, let's see what else the Million Dollar Corporation has up their sleeves; I want to see how far they're willing to take it," Ventura said eagerly.

"Hulk Hogan being thrown at Earthquake's feet, and the big guy sending out the tremors; I think he's going to give him a full ten on the Richter Scale...oooooooouch!" he grimaced again as Hulk indeed got a full-on Earthquake from the Walking Natural Disaster, who then laughed hard and delivered a second one. "Complete chaos here, and Hulk Hogan has now taken a...wait a minute, now what's this?" McMahon leaned worriedly forward in his seat, "Jimmy Hart handing Ric Flair a case of some kind, Flair unlocking it-wait a minute, what is that thing!?" he gasped as Flair pulled out an oversized electrical cattle prod. The Nature Boy pressed a button on the side, and electricity crackled ominously between the prod handles, "Ric Flair with a shock stick, raising it high over the Hulkster...!"

"Don't!" Elizabeth broke away from Sherri and jumped in front of Flair, "Ric, stop it, please stop it!"

"GIVE MY DAUGHTER THE SHOT!" Flair shouted maniacally in her face before plunging the cattle prod into Hulk's chest with a loud, "WOOOOOOOOO!" Hulk vibrated wildly as electricity surged through his body. The Nature Boy dropped the prod, grabbed the First Lady of Wrestling, and kissed her hard on the lips despite her moans of protest. "Ah, you're not worth it anymore," he remarked dismissively, "Get rid of her, Jake."

He shoved her towards Roberts, who hooked her into position under his arm. "And when it became clear that Eve had caused the original sin, her punishment was to be laid barren," the Snake snickered coldly at her, seconds before DDTing her to the horrified gasp of the crowd. "Jake the Snake with a DDT to Elizabeth; how cold-blooded can you get!?" McMahon was outraged, "And it looks like Elizabeth is out cold! If only Randy Savage were here...!"

"Well he ain't, and after what Hogan did to him, I'm sure he'd join in the fun," Ventura shrugged.

"Jake the Snake taking a body bag from the Undertaker; he's going to bury her in...wait a minute, Paul Bearer just opened the lid to that coffin; this cannot be good!" McMahon gulped nervously, "Undertaker hefts the Hulkster up; no, don't put him in there; those things are airtight...!"

But his pleas were in vain, as the Undertaker dumped Hulk's limp form into the coffin and slammed the lid shut, holding it down while Bearer turned the key in the lock. "Rest in peace, Hulk Hogan!" the mortician declared, laughing coldly.

"Yes, rest in peace, you American dog!" Volkoff shouted at the closed coffin, "This is what happens to all American heroes who stand up to the power of Mother Russia!"

He climbed on top of the coffin and started singing the Soviet National Anthem loudly. "Not now, Nikolai, it's time to exit stage left," Blassie told the Russian, shooing him down. He paused, however, and watched the Undertaker help Roberts zip the unconscious Elizabeth into the body bag. "I told you I'd get you in the end, you worthless skirt," he taunted her, "Good work, Jake."

"Pleasure was all mine, Freddie. Trust me..." Roberts laughed coldly himself as he opened Damien's bag and dumped the python on top of the body bag. He and the Undertaker followed Blassie and the rest of the Million Dollar Corporation out of the Funeral Parlor set, leaving Hulk locked in the coffin. "Wait a minute, they can't just leave him there like that!" McMahon turned pale, "That coffin's airtight; if he's locked in there too long...!"

"Well, in the immortal words of Ivan Drago, if he dies, he dies; for trying to muscle in on Macho's woman, Hogan brought it all on himself, and if he..." Ventura was cut off as McMahon decked him hard across the face. "I have had it with you, Jesse, and I'm not going to just stand around while a true champion suffocates!" he snapped at the Body. He quickly rushed down from the broadcast position onto the Funeral Parlor set, reaching the coffin at the same time as a panicked Bret and Piper. "Give me a hand with it!" the commentator shouting at them, straining to lift up the locked coffin lid.

"You're never going to get it that way; you've got to break the seal!" Piper looked frantically around for something to break it with.

"I'll go get Andre; he might be able to break it himself; Davey, get Liz out of here and get her some medical help," the Hitman told his brother-in-law as he came rushing out to help as well.

"Got it. Shoo, shoo, shoo!" Davey kicked Damien gently off the top of the body bag and unzipped it. "Liz, you all right?" he asked her worriedly. Elizabeth moaned softly and did not open her eyes. "Concussion, great. Hang in there, we'll get you some aid," he picked her up and carried her off the set, past Tito and the Boss Man as they came rushing in with a stream of WWF officials. "I've got a crowbar!" the Mexican-American held it up.

"Give it here!" McMahon grabbed it and tried to jam it under the coffin lid. "Pour it on, pour it on, he's been in there over a minute now!" Piper shouted at him worriedly.

"I'm trying! I can't get the cotton-picking thing in right!" McMahon shouted in frustration, jiggling the crowbar around.

"Let me!" the Scotsman grabbed it off him and strained to raise the coffin lid up himself. "Here, we've got a drill!" another official ran forward, clutching one.

"Drill some air holes for him, quick!" Tito told him, seizing a sledgehammer off another official and slamming away at the side of the coffin. "You're just giving him a headache that way, Santana!" the Boss Man chided him, whamming his nightstick into the coffin as well, with just as little success.

"Come on you guys, dig in; over two minutes now!" Piper yelled at them, straining with all his might with the crowbar.

"Give me that one!" McMahon snatched another one off another official and tried prying the lid open as well. All around them, the crowd was screaming anxiously at Hulk's grave predicament. A loud cheer unexpectedly rose up as Andre hustled into sight behind Bret and rushed for the coffin. "Hulkster, you all right in there?" the Giant called worriedly through one of the holes that had been drilled in the coffin lid.

"Never mind that; just see if you can pry it open for us!" the Boss Man shouted at him. Andre took a deep breath and clutched the sides of the lid...

...but before he could attempt to pry it open, Earthquake suddenly rushed back out, Jimmy's megaphone in hand. With a sudden swipe, Earthquake smashed the Giant in the leg with the megaphone, sending Andre toppling to ground with a low cry. "Hey, stop it, we're trying to help...!" Bret tried to reason with the Walking Natural Disaster. Roaring, Earthquake shoved him and several other officials aside, then grabbed Andre's leg and jumped on it repeatedly until Andre was groaning in agony. He them stomped the tremors and jumped hard on the Giant's chest before anyone could stop him. "Get out of here!" McMahon grabbed Tito's sledgehammer and rushed Earthquake, forcing him back towards the exit, "We're saving a man's life; get out of here!"

"Rest in peace, Hulkamania! Rest in peace Andre!" Earthquake laughed maliciously, giving Andre a vicious kick to the head for good measure.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" it was an enraged Tugboat running into the Funeral Parlor set now, a steel chair in hand. "GET OUT, GET OUT, YOU MONSTER!" Hulk's best friend roared at the top of his lungs, connecting several blows on Earthquake.

"You're a dead man, Ottman! Nobody hits me like that and gets away with it! Next chance I get, you're a dead man!" Earthquake threatened him, nonetheless sauntering away, laughing coldly. "Oh God, oh God...!" pale, Tugboat rushed to the coffin. "Hurry it up. break him out!" he pleaded with everyone around it.

"We're doing all we can!" Piper bellowed at him, "See if you can pull it open!"

Tugboat grabbed the edges of the lid and strained for all it was worth, but the coffin remained firmly shut. "Come on, please!" hysterical, Tugboat started smashing the top of the coffin with the steel chair.

"You're not going to get anything done if you freak out, Fred," Bret gently pulled him backwards and gave him McMahon's sledgehammer. "Vince, you go take care of Andre; we'll take care of this," he instructed the sympathetic commentator.

"Andre, you all right, big guy?" McMahon bustled over to the Giant, worried.

"Don't touch the leg!" Andre howled, clutching it in agony.

"Over here first; Hulk's been in there over three minutes without air!" Piper shouted at the medical crew rushing towards Andre, all while pushing hard on his crowbar, "It's probably now or never!"

"Dig in, guys, dig in; we can break this!" Bret took the drill off a nearby official and started drilling into the coffin's seal. The moment it audibly broke through the other side, Piper jammed his crowbar into the hole and jerked it to the side so more of the seal shattered. "Ready!" he ordered everyone nearby, who jammed their wedges into the hole, "Set, NOW!"

Straining as one, the men finally managed to break the coffin lid open. The loud cheer of the crowd immediately turned to a horrified gasp. For Hulk was lying motionless inside the coffin, not breathing. The lining was ripped asunder, hinting he'd been trying to claw his way out before he'd run out of air. "Get the medics, quick!" a pale McMahon yelled at a nearby official, who was in fact waving a medic forward. "One side, Tugger, let them handle this," he gently led a now sobbing Tugboat aside to allow the medic clear access to Hulk. "Come on, Hulk, don't go on us now, not like this!" he returned himself to Hulk's side and begged the former champ as Hulk was quickly administered CPR by the medic.

"Come on Hulk, pull through!" Tito took his hand, fearful, "You've never given up before; don't give up now!"

"Coughing, we've got coughing!" the medic shouted excitedly. And indeed, Hulk was now visibly coughing after receiving the CPR. "Thank God," the Boss Man breathed in relief, "For a moment there, we thought...!"

"Get the stretcher over here, and some oxygen!" the medic shouted to his associates, who were carrying a stretcher forward. Fighting back hard tears, Tugboat gently lifted Hulk out of the coffin and laid him down on the stretcher, then took hold of his friend's hand as the medics jammed an oxygen mask over Hulk's face. The crowd gave the medics a standing ovation as they carried Hulk out, Tugboat jogging loyally alongside the stretcher. "You need a hand, Mr. Rousimoff?" another medic asked Andre, who was gingerly getting to his feet.

"I'm just fine; I can...!" Andre groaned out loud, toppling back to his knees, unable to put weight on the damaged leg.

"Don't worry, big guy; we'll get you to the hospital too; Vince, give me a hand here," Piper waved to McMahon. The two of them slipped Andre's arms around their shoulders and carried him out after the medics (although with the Giant's weight, they did so partially stooped over). The rest of the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection fell in behind them. "That sure was close," Tito admitted out loud.

"Yeah, but unfortunately, this throws a big wrench into the plan to have Hulk face Flair for the title at WrestleMania," Bret shook his head, "So the Million Dollar Corporation might just have won for good after all..."


	8. Chapter 8

"Doctor, if I may," a worried Okerlund hailed the doctor now exiting Hulk's hospital room, "What is the status of Hulk Hogan and the lovely Elizabeth?"

"Mr. Hogan has sustained a concussion and has fifteen separate broken bones, including a slightly cracked skull," the doctor told him grimly, "Although he vehemently declares he will be able to, it's clear to me he will not be able to make WrestleMania next month, as those injuries will not be fully healed by that time. As for Miss Hulette, she has suffered a less severe concussion, and should be fully healed within two weeks."

"I see," Okerlund mused softly, "And how about Andre the Giant?"

"Mr. Rousimoff has received a fractured fibula. His timetable, unlike Mr. Hogan, allows for an appearance at WrestleMania, as it should be completely healed by then. However, I have advised Mr. Rousimoff that, given all the injuries he has accrued in the wrestling ring over the years, he should consider retiring rather than risk any more injuries that could be permanent."

"All right, thank you, Doctor," Okerlund told him. He turned grimly to the camera. "As you have heard, Hulk Hogan's career may have just been terribly derailed because of the vicious attack by the Million Dollar Corporation that you just witnessed earlier in this broadcast. As for the fate of the main event match at Wrestlemania now that the Hulkster has been officially grounded for the event, your guess would be as good as mine. We can only wait and see who will be given the right to face Ric Flair for the title now. Right now, let us all wish the Hulkster, the lovely Elizabeth, and Andre the Giant best wishes for a speedy and full recovery from the injuries they have sustained. Back to you, Vince."

Back in the arena, McMahon shook his head softly. "All right, thank you, Gene; a terrible break for the former champion, whose chance to get the title back now appears to have been put on indefinite hiatus thanks to the brutal actions of the entire Million Dollar Corporation..."

"By the way, McMahon, after the broadcast today, I'm filing a lawsuit on you for assault and battery," Ventura told him curtly.

"And how could you just sit there and say Hulk Hogan possibly suffocating in that coffin was irrelevant!?" McMahon glared at him, "Even if you're jealous of the man, that was totally out of line; no one should wish for anyone's death!"

"Well, maybe I got a little carried away in the heat of the moment," the Body conceded, "But the fact still is, Hogan got what he deserved, and now we have a champion we can respect, and...and here we go," he declared as the sound of trumpets rang out throughout the arena, his gaze set on a pair of thrones in the middle of the ring flanked by Doric columns, one of which had a royal purple robe draped over it.

"I find this proceeding we are about to witness of extremely high distaste," McMahon muttered in disgust.

"Well I find it of high cultural quality, McMahon. Not only will we get to see Ric Flair got another honor he's earned..."

"Now let's get something straight, Jesse; while we have crowned kings before here in the World Wrestling Federation, the newly crowned monarch had defeated the previous reigning king for the honor. Certainly Ric Flair did not face Harley Race for the title, and therefore..."

"Hold that thought, McMahon, here comes the royal procession," Ventura leaned forward eagerly in his seat as a long line of figures started streaming up the aisle.

"Bobby Heenan leading the way out, and behind him, the actual King of the World Wrestling Federation, Harley Race, carrying a second crown on a pillow, and I must say, Jesse, I wonder how Race is going to take there being a second king around here in the WWF?"

"Well, since Flair isn't part of the Heenan Family, I don't think there'll be any conflict."

"Speaking of the Heenan Family, here comes the rest of them now too: Intercontinental champion Mr. Perfect...Rick Rude...King Kong Bundy...Big John Studd...Ken Patera...the Brooklyn Brawler...the newly formed tag team of Power & Glory...the Brainbusters...and the Islanders bringing up the rear. And behind them comes Paul Bearer, leading the Undertaker, and behind him Jake the Snake, who is just getting a colossal booing here from the fans, and after what he did to Elizabeth earlier in this broadcast, I cannot blame everyone here at all."

"Well, I can't condone what happened either, McMahon, so don't jump down my throat over it, but I'll just say, Liz was going to pay a price for being unfaithful, and that was it."

"And I refuse to believe that Elizabeth would ever cheat on the Macho Man, and will continue to take that position until conclusively proven otherwise. Jimmy Hart's next, and behind him comes his so-called Dungeon of Doom, starting with the Million Dollar Man, minus Virgil, whom I'm told has been ushered out of the building to begin serving his monthlong suspension. It looks like DiBiase's carrying a long case of some kind; we'll see what the story there is. And then comes Earthquake, also getting some intense boos here for his sneak attack on Andre. And behind him we see the Honky Tonk Man...Greg 'the Hammer' Valentine...Adrian Adonis...'Dangerous' Danny Davis...Terry Funk...Dino Bravo...the Fabulous Rougeau Brothers...and the Nasty Boys in the rear. And now the Model, Rick Martel, who apparently was invited to this get-together despite not having a manager at present."

He wouldn't miss an opportunity to please his fans, that's for sure."

"What fans!? Martel nonetheless carrying a tiara on another pillow. And here comes Mr. Fuji and his stable; although Mr. Fuji does not contribute any men to the Million Dollar Corporation at this juncture, there is often strong cooperation between them. And behind him, the Magnificent Muraco...'Cowboy' Bob Orton...Killer Khan...Kona Crush...newcomer the Berzerker...all three members of the Orient Express...and in the rear, the gigantic Yokozuna."

"I still think Blassie, Hart, and Heenan ought to consider adding Yoko to the Million Dollar Corporation. I mean, just think, him and Earthquake together as a tag team..."

"That thought gives me chills just thinking about it, Jesse. Only Freddie Blassie's men left, and here they comes, starting with the tag team champions the Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff, the latter waving a small handheld Soviet flag contemptuously at the fans..."

"Hey, he's proud of his country, and since he's a true patriot, unlike the glory hog Hogan was..."

"Coming behind them, the One Man Gang," McMahon vehemently cut him off, "and then the Natural Butch Reed...the newly acquired Powers of Pain. And now, we're just waiting for Flair and Blassie themselves..."

The regal theme switched to "Thus Spake Flairathustra," heralding Blassie's appearance through the curtain, merrily swinging his cane in rhythm to the music. Behind him trotted Flair and a grinning Sherri, now clad in a regal black fur. Trailing behind them were a squad of lesser wrestlers, carrying a twin throne similar to the one Sherri had ridden on before when she'd worked with Savage. Blassie held the ropes open for the two of them and waited for them to take their places on the thrones before gesturing for the Sheik to give him a scroll and a microphone. "Hear ye, hear ye," he declared proudly, ducking several articles of trash being flung at him, "The dark ages of Hulkamania have been vanquished by a noble hero, who stands before you now; a man with true grace, talent, and skill, a man who deserves your undying respect..."

The boos became almost deafening. "Shut up and show some respect, you pencil-neck geeks!" he barked at the crowd, "Hogan's gone, and this man is your new leader, the man you pay tribute to. So I give you, the new world champion, a man beyond repute, who today, we deign to crown king of wrestling..."

"I don't like this, Freddie; he's infringing on my territory here!" Race muttered in his ear.

"Take it like a man, Harley, and crown him," Blassie muttered back. "Henceforth," he continued, watching proudly as Race reluctantly dropped the crown on Flair's head, "He shall be known as the Nature KING, Ric Flair! And he shall reign in perpetuity with the once-more crowned Sensational Queen Sherri," he gestured for Martel to crown her with the tiara, "Long live the king and queen!"

Long live the king and queen!" everyone in the ring repeated, joining Blassie in falling to their knees before Flair and Sherri.

"WOOOOOO!" Flair roared in delight as Studd slipped the royal mantle on top of his robe. He and Sherri rose and clasped hands, gesturing for their "subjects" to rise. "Your Majesty, if I may," DiBiase approached the throne, "As Grand High Exchequer of the Royal Treasury, I hereby pay tribute to your coronation with this special gift," he opened his case and handed Flair a large scepter, "With this scepter of pure gold, which has been used to end championship reigns before, may you reign long and proudly."

"I accept your gift, O Grand High Exchequer," Flair graciously took hold of the scepter. "And now, Mr. Blassie, approach and kneel," he instructed his manager, who did just that. "From this moment forward," he tapped the scepter to each of Blassie's shoulders, "You shall be known as the Classy Prime Minister, Frederick Blassie. Arise."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Blassie thanked him, "And as Prime Minister, I can assure you that your loyal army," he gestured at all the other wrestlers in the ring, "will happily go into battle to protect your throne, and your title, at a moment's notice. So, that leaves just one thing left to say before we conclude the ceremony..."

"Absolutely, Comrade Blassie; now we sing Soviet National Anthem to celebrate coronation," Volkoff snatched the microphone off his manager, put his cap to his heart, and started crooning the anthem loudly-for a few seconds at least, before a barrage of slaps from everyone else silenced him. "As I was saying," Blassie glared at the Russian, "We conclude our ceremony with a grand parade so you can all greet your new rulers and show them respect. Long live the World Wrestling Federation world champion! Long live the Nature King and Sensational Queen!"

"Long live the king! Long live the king!" Heenan enthusiastically started the chant that everyone else in the ring took up as the coronation theme started again. Grinning proudly, Blassie held the ropes open for the king and queen allowing them to climb onto their thrones. Flair took the WWF championship belt off from under his robe and held it high with a loud, "WOOOOOOO!" as the throne bearers carried he and Sherri in a victory lap around the ring, their "army" exiting the ring one at a time and joining in the de facto parade, despite the incredible booing and barrage of trash being flung at them all. "This went well, I'd say," Jimmy commended the Classy One as they slipped out of the ring near the head of the procession.

"Damn right it did, Hart, and at least now Martel'll be happy that she has more of a role," Blassie jerked a finger at Sherri, coolly waving to the hostile crowd on her throne. "And best yet, there's not a damn thing Tunney can do to stop us. Right after this taping, I can guarantee he'll be on his way to Vincenelli's to concede defeat..."

* * *

><p>"Tunney's here, Boss," one of Don Vincenelli's goons called into his office.<p>

"Is he alone?" the don asked.

"Yep; we checked."

"Send him in, then," the don smiled in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair as Tunney entered the office, stone-faced. "Hello, Jack; so nice of you to come," he greeted the WWF president.

"Let me say first and foremost that what you had the Million Dollar Corporation do to Hulk and Elizabeth was absolutely appalling," Tunney told him sternly.

"For the record, Jack, the Corporation did all that on their own, without any input from me," Don Vincenelli pointed out.

"Even if so, it sickens me that you would condone them doing that, assaulting a defenseless woman and trying to genuinely kill a true representative of the sport of wrestling. Could we open a window in here? It's like a furnace right now," Tunney wiped sweat from his brow.

"Patrizio," Don Vincenelli asked his chief bodyguard, who opened the nearest window. "But rest assured, Jack, what you saw happen in the Funeral Parlor today will happen to a lot more people if we don't close the business tonight. Have a seat."

He gestured Tunney into the armchair directly in front of his desk and took a form off Patrizio. "Who would you put in charge of the WWF if I signed this?" Tunney inquired with raised eyebrows.

"I have my candidate, but it's not your concern," the don told him sharply, "I've won, Jack; I have all the titles, and you can bet I'm not letting go of them. So just sign the form and let me have the WWF, or I'll give the green light for every single wrestler in the WWF not currently in my employ to be given a severe beatdown. And who knows, maybe your family might find themselves in the crosshairs too..."

"Leave my family out of this; this is just between you and me," Tunney snapped at him.

"Then quit stalling and sign, old man; you've lost, got it?" Stefano ordered him, thrusting a pen into his hand. Tunney glanced down at the form. "It just doesn't seem right," he mused out loud, "My uncle always believed wrestling should be a honest sport, not controlled behind the scenes, something everyone should be able to enjoy..."

"Well your uncle's not here anymore, Jack, and he was a fool. Extreme wrestling is the way of the future, and I'm simply making sure the paid customers get what they really want. Now come on, Jack, time's up. I'm in charge of the WWF; sign it over," Don Vincenelli pressed him hard, aided by the clicking of the guns of the various goons throughout the office. With a heavy sigh, Tunney lowered the pen to the paper...

...but held it in place for a long pause. "You're a gambling man, Vincenelli," he told the don, staring right at his adversary, "How about we decide this through the ultimate gamble: whoever does better at WrestleMania gets the WWF."

"Stop stalling and sign, Tunney!" Stefano slapped him across the back of the head.

"Stefano, it's OK," his uncle held up a hand. "What've you got in mind, Jack?" he asked Tunney.

"It's quite simple; whoever has the most belts at the end of WrestleMania wins. You win, you get the WWF, I step aside and let you do whatever you want with it. I win, I get the WWF, and you step away from it and never bother me or the organization again. Do we have a deal?"

He extended a hand. Don Vincenelli laughed softly. "You strike a hard bargain, Jack. But I like it," he reached forward and shook Tunney's hand, "So you know, if you try and back out of this, your entire family's fair game."

"And if you back out of your end, I tell the FBI everything I know about your national operation, and you and your entire syndicate go down," Tunney warned him in turn.

"Whatever, Jack; don't think for a second I wouldn't have made this if I didn't know I'd win. All right then, whichever side has the most belts at the end of the pay-per-view wins..."

"And that includes the Million Dollar Belt, Tunney; as of now, it's an official title," Stefano chimed in.

"If you win, you can make it official; for tiebreaker purposes with this bargain, however, I'd prefer to stick to an odd number of titles so we can have a clear winner, and thus let's leave it at the existing official titles," Tunney pointed out.

"And so we shall, Jack," Don Vincenelli agreed, "Now all we have to do is figure out who Flair wants to defend the title against now that Hogan's out of the picture..."

"I do have three ready contenders I'd promised a title shot to back during the Royal Rumble..." Tunney began.

"Jack, if we do this, Ric will have a strong say on who he wants to face. Now if you want to jeopardize this deal before it even starts..."

"Very well, Vincenelli, how about this for a compromise: Flair can choose his opponent, but it can't be anyone who's sold out to you," Tunney offered.

"If you insist, Jack. And one more thing: this is entirely between you and me. You spill a word of this to your family, anyone else in the WWF, or the press, and it's open season," the don warned.

"You have my word, Vincenelli; I won't say a word to anyone," Tunney said firmly, "Now, so it works for us no matter who wins, I intend to make this WrestleMania the biggest and best in the history of wrestling, if that's fine with you."

"Certainly is, Jack. Now, let's iron out this deal a little more..."

* * *

><p>From his position in the large oak tree near the window, where he'd been holding a fishpole microphone boom borrowed from the arena's TV crew, Steamboat was frowning deeply. "Hope you know what you're doing, Mr. Tunney," he mumbled softly, clicking off the tape recorder attached to the fishpole and leaping to the nearest branch of the tree just over Don Vincenelli's fence, "Better let everyone else know about this..."<p>

* * *

><p>"So, everything's riding on WrestleMania, then," Bret mused solemnly inside Hulk's hospital room, where the rest of the Connection was seated around the former champion's, Elizabeth's, and Andre's hospital beds, "I just knew something was going on the last few months..."<p>

"I say we call the cops right now and turn the entire Vincenelli Family in," the Boss Man declared.

"Much as I'd like to, Ray, part of me says not to right now; while we have him threatening Mr. Tunney's family on tape," the Hitman nodded at Steamboat, "That's probably only going to be a minor conviction. And maybe if we blow the cover on him, he'll turn around and take out Mr. Tunney's family. The last thing we want is to put any more innocents in harm's way."

"I guess not," the former prison guard conceded, slumping back in his seat, "So, what do we do now, then?"

"Win at WrestleMania in the title matches; it's as simple as that," Steamboat said with a strong nod.

"And I don't care what the doctors say; I'm going to be there to take Flair down," Hulk said firmly, straining to rise up in his bed.

"Hulk, you can't; you won't be healed in time; I've seen people injured as badly at you are; it takes at least three months, maybe more," Davey tried to dissuade him.

"But I'm the only one who can stop Flair; I've got to be there; it's the...!" tears started flowing from the former champion's eyes as he slumped back down, "It's going to be the biggest WrestleMania ever, and I'll have to miss it...!"

"We know, Hulk, we know, but you'll be there in spirit," Bret patted his arm, "But you know, saying things like you're the only one who can stop Flair was part of what made Randy upset. I know you don't mean it, but we're a team, after all; everyone in this room could..."

The door abruptly swung open. "So, the high and mighty have finally fallen!" the Ultimate Warrior ranted, staring at the heavily bandaged Hulk and the cast-wearing Andre with a satisfied expression, "Now you have no choice but to take me in!"

"Warrior, this isn't the time or place...!" Tito tried to get through to him.

"Your time is over! You have pushed me aside for too long! I will not be pushed around any longer!" the Warrior warned them, "Hogan is out, Andre is out, Savage is gone; you have no choice but to let me in to take their place!"

"Like hell we will!" Piper jumped to his feet, upset, "How dare you barge in here and try and take advantage of another person's misfortune...!"

"For trying to block me from my destiny, it is well-deserved!" the Warrior ranted, unconcerned, "And I am not leaving this room until you agree to let me join you!"

He folded his arms defiantly across his chest and glared the Connection down. With a loud sigh, Davey waved everyone close for a group conference. "All right, Warrior, how about this," the British Bulldog told him wearily once they'd finished, "You win at WrestleMania, and you're in. Satisfied!?"

"If that is what it takes! You will not regret this, any of you! And when I join and am anointed your new leader, it will be a glorious day in the history of wrestling!" the Warrior declared grandly, thrusting his arms in the air in triumph and spinning out the door. Piper quickly slammed it shut behind him. "If that day comes at WrestleMania, I'm jumping off the arena roof," he muttered.

"Well, he did bring up a point, though; we may have to face the fact Randy's never coming back now-sorry, Liz," Steamboat asided to the First Lady when she started sniffing again, "We may have to think about bringing in a replacement or two. Who do we think might make the best option in that case?"

"I'm going to come and say it: Owen. He's just as good as the rest of us, and deserves the exposure," Bret said emphatically.

"Ordinarily yes, Hitman, but since he and the Anvil are going to be working together for some time now, I don't think now's quite the right time," Piper threw in his two cents worth, "I say the Tornado."

"But does he have the stamina with one leg?" Tito had to ask.

"Former Intercontinental champion; where've you been, Santana?"

"I think you're all wrong; I say Brutus is the best option," Hulk countered.

"Oh come on, Hulk; he's a hack!" Piper snorted, "He might be popular, yes, but he..."

The door to the room swung open again. Everyone fell abruptly silent at the sight of Savage standing in the doorway. The Macho Man trudged into the room and stared blankly back and forth between Hulk and Elizabeth in their hospital beds. Then, with a loud sob, he crumpled to the floor. "All my fault..." he whimpered.

"Randy, Randy, it's OK," Bret told him, visibly looking relieved to see him in person again, "How did...?"

"I could have stopped the whole thing!" Savage lamented, burying his face in his hands, "I've worked with both Hebners before; I could have told them apart; Earl has a mole on the left cheek that Dave doesn't. I'm just a coward...!"

"Easy, there, old chap," Davey patted him on the shoulder, "We've all been worried sick about you over the last week; where were you?"

"I went straight to the airport after I left the Bradley Center and got on the first flight back home," Savage explained miserably, "Then I went to an old friend of mine in the area and leased a cabin he owns in the mountains for a week. I figured at the time I'd renew indefinitely and be done with all of you. But all through the week, my conscience nagged at me, that what I thought I heard seemed a little too convenient of coincidence, that Ventura seemed too rash to push through the infidelity story-and that Elizabeth had no reason to be cheating. Earlier today, it got too much to suppress, and I figured I'd come on down and see what the whole story was. I stopped in the bar on Maple Street for a drink first; the TV was set to the evening news, and they had...the footage. And I saw...I saw..." he fought to keep himself composed, "I saw the Demon of Death Valley trying to kill my partner, and the Snakeman...putting his filthy hands on the woman I love, and..."

He sniffed. "And then, there was laughter in the corner," he made himself continue, "Hart and Heenan were there, celebrating, I guess. They didn't see me, but I saw and heard them well, and I got all the answers when Heenan offered Hart a toast with, 'Boy, think of how stupid Macho's going to feel when he realizes he got duped by us in that closet-if he ever finds out..'"

He broke down again. "I'm a disgrace!" he lamented, "A rotten, jealous disgrace to the Mega Powers and the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection! You don't deserve me; Elizabeth doesn't deserve me," he hung his head in shame before her, "You deserve somebody better than I could ever be."

He started trudging towards the door, his head still hung low. "Randy, wait," with a small amount of visible pain, Elizabeth quickly slid herself out of bed and hustled to block him off, "Randy, listen, I forgave you the moment you left," she told him pleadingly, "And I forgive you now."

"You wouldn't want me anymore..."

"How could I not forgive the man who's done more good for my life than anyone else?" she cut him off, making his eyes go wide in amazement, "You've always said how I changed your life for the better; you changed mine for the better too. And I don't want anyone else, as long as your sincere about being sorry, and it's clear you are."

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, Elizabeth; how did I ever get so dumb to doubt you?" his expression brightened considerably, "If you do want to give me another chance, it'll never happen again, I swear it."

"Oh Randy," breaking into a smile herself, she embraced him warmly. They held the embrace for a good minute or so before Savage hesitantly approached Hulk. "I'm sorry to you too, partner," he told the former champion softly, "I didn't mean anything I said about hoping Flair crippled you; I was angry, I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight. If I'd known they'd go do all this to you, I'd've never said it. You're the true champion, and I can never be you..."

"But you are the other half of the Mega Powers," Hulk extended his arm. Grinning again, Savage took hold of it for the two of them to once again do the Mega Powers' handshake. "Just tell me anything I can do to try and straighten this whole mess, and I'll do it, promise," the Macho Man added hopefully.

"Well, Randy, it appears then you came back at just the right time," Bret was smiling himself to see the Mega Powers healed, "Because in fact, I can think of something you could do that can go a long way to correcting everything..."


	9. Chapter 9

ONE WEEK LATER...

"...Nature King Ric Flair and the once-again-anointed Sensational Queen Sherri being carried regally to the ring, with the Classy Prime Minister Fred Blassie in front ordering their throne carriers onward, for his first title defense against up and coming Mike Thomas," a dismal McMahon mumbled over the air, "And the one thing that most gets to me, Jesse, is how Flair chose such a green opponent for his first defense instead of a more worthy challenger-which is of course not to take away from a talented youngster such as Thomas, but it still must be said..."

"Well I can tell you one thing, McMahon, Flair had the choice of opponent as champion, and whether you or anyone else likes who he picks to defend against or not, too bad," Ventura leaned back confidently in his seat, visibly on Cloud Nine, "Now let's see how a REAL champion performs in the ring."

"Ric Flair handing the World Wrestling Federation championship belt to Freddie Blassie, who kisses it proudly like a father welcoming his child home; after everything he set into motion to get it back, I certainly hope he's happy."

"Oh you know he is, McMahon. Blassie spent a lifetime trying to earn that belt, and not even Hogan, that ingrate former pupil of his, was going to deny him it. And give a round to Queen Sherri too; it's about time she earned a piece of that title as well, and Macho certainly wasn't going to get it for her."

"Sensational Queen Sherri cheering on Ric Flair in the ring as he starts off the match by flattening Mike Thomas to the mat with a brutally hard clothesline. We here at the WWF would again like to wish Hulk Hogan a speedy recovery from the terrible injuries he received at the hands of the Million Dollar Corporation in the Funeral Parlor; it's just a shame he now won't be able to face Flair for the title at WrestleMania as had been the original intention..."

"No, it's better without him in the picture, McMahon; finally there'll be a good WrestleMania main event without him grandstanding all the time, and whoever ends up challenging Flair, he ought to make a better challenger than Hogan ever could."

"To bring you at home up to date, to this point a replacement challenger for Ric Flair at WrestleMania has not yet been assigned...ooooooooh my goodness, Thomas thrown hard into the ring post, and I think he's hurt the shoulder!" McMahon grimaced.

"WOOOOOO!" Flair shouted confidently at the booing crowd, dragging Thomas into the middle of the ring and stomping hard on the injured shoulder despite Thomas's whimpers of agony. The Nature King then waved his finger in the air as the signal for the Figure Four Leglock, grabbed Thomas's legs, bent them into position, and slapped on the hold. Yelling in pain, Thomas almost immediately waved his arms in surrender. The bell rang loudly. "That's it, a successful title defense for Flair," Ventura applauded loudly, "Give him credit for once in your life, McMahon; he earned this one."

"Well, Flair got the win, but it was clear Thomas was hardly main event material in...and look at this, Flair refusing to let go of the Figure Four!" McMahon rose to his feet, outraged, "Mike Thomas in visible agony, the match is over, but Flair continuing to apply the Figure Four Leglock; come on ref, make him stop it! The match is over; there's no need for this!"

"Pour it on, Ric baby, pour it on!" Blassie encouraged his man, seizing Flair's arm and hooking it onto the ropes for extra leverage. "That's what's going to happen to anyone who tries to take the belt from Ric, understand, you pencil-neck geeks!" he shouted a warning into the nearest handheld camera. "OK Martel, time to give him some royal punishment of your own," he told the Queen.

"With pleasure," Sherri laid Flair's scepter on the apron and climbed up to the top rope, where she promptly jumped square onto Thomas's chest even as Flair continued applying the Figure Four. "OH COME ON, THERE WAS NO CALL FOR THAT AT ALL!" McMahon was livid, "Sensational Sherri with that cheap shot move on the already beaten Mike Thomas-and Ric Flair STILL pouring on the Figure Four Leglock; this is disgraceful! He could be causing permanent damage to Thomas's leg holding it this long!"

"Yeah, well, when you get in the ring, you run the risk of major injury, McMahon, and boy do I feel good right now," Ventura started whistling on the air.

"You're an absolute disgrace yourself, Jesse Ventura, I'm going to come out and say it!" his broadcast partner upbraided him, "It's bad enough that you goaded Randy Savage into walking out on Hulk Hogan, but to think you could approve of a wrestler getting permanently injured...!"

"Hey, life's cruel, McMahon, and if you think I give a damn what you or anyone at home thinks, you're even stupider than you look," the Body shot back, "There's a new day dawning here in the World Wrestling Federation, and if you're not on the train with the new king, you're going to get run over real good."

"Finally Ric Flair releasing the Figure Four, but look at this, Thomas can't even stand up; I think Flair broke the leg," McMahon turned back to the action with an angry scowl, "And now...now what are they doing?" he wondered as Sherri dragged a chair into the ring, which Flair, after fastening the world championship belt back into place around his waist and allowing Blassie to lower the crown back onto his head, took a seat in. He waved his manager for a microphone. "OK, peasant," he ordered the beaten, broken Thomas at his feet, "Bow before your king and champion, and tell me, am I the greatest champion in the history of the World Wrestling Federation?"

Thomas mumbled softly under his breath. "What was that?" Blassie yanked him up by the hair, "Care to repeat that, you pencil-neck geek?"

"He is, he is the greatest! You are the greatest champion of all time!" Thomas pathetically bleated to Flair.

"What do you think, Freddie, good enough?" Flair asked the Classy One.

"Uh...no," in a flash, Blassie delivered a sharp kick to Thomas's chest. "OH COME ON, THIS IS BEYOND IMMORAL!" McMahon bellowed irately, "THIS IS AN UTTER DISGRACE TO ORGANIZED ATHLETICS! MIKE THOMAS BEING KICKED HARD BY EACH OF THE TERRIBLE TRIO-AND NOW SHERRI WITH THE SCEPTER, AND SHE'S BELTING HIM WITH IT! SHERRI HITTING HIM WITH THE SCEPTER; BLASSIE HITTING HIM WITH HIS CANE; FLAIR WHIPPING HIM WITH THE BELT; RIC FLAIR IS **DESECRATING** THE WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION CHAMPIONSHIP BELT BY USING IT AS A WEAPON! IS THIS HOW A CHAMPION IS SUPPOSED TO ACT!?"

"My kind of champion, yes, and since Flair won the match, I say he can do whatever he wants," Ventura shrugged indifferently.

"This is not how a champion's supposed to act! A champion is supposed to be an upstanding model to society, and Ric Flair is no champion in my book even if he has the belt! Mike Thomas bleeding all over as Flair now kicks him out of the ring; this is ridiculous! This young man's career might be over now; there was no call for anything we saw in the ring after the match! Who's going to put a stop to all this!?"

"WOOOOOOO!" Flair shouted in triumph, hoisting the belt high to tremendous boos. He hefted the microphone again. "Boy, it feels good to be the king!" he declared proudly, "It's just too bad I have to face the most worthless talent," he glanced contemptuously at Thomas being gingerly carried on the shoulders of WWF officials towards the locker room, "Is there no one here in the World Wrestling Federation who can give me a real challenge?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance" started rising over the sound system. "Wait a minute, could it possibly be...YES IT IS, HERE COMES THE MACHO MAN!" McMahon roared in delight to see Savage storming up the aisle towards the ring, a determined look on his face, "Randy Savage is back at last!"

"But who's side is he on?" Ventura asked warily, watching intently as Savage stormed up to a smug-looking Flair. "Well, well, look who it is, the Macho Moron," the Nature King snorted at him, "Long time no see..."

"You're gonna shut up right now, even if you are a king now! I've got something to say, ooooooooooooh yeaaaaaaah!" Savage shouted at him, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

"What's the matter Macho, guilty conscience?" Sherri taunted him, sensuously leaning into his shoulder, "Finally realizing you should have stuck with me from the beginning so Loony Liz wouldn't have gotten hurt? Finally coming to terms with the fact you abandoned her and Hogan to their fates...?"

"I hate to say it, but you're right, yeah; I abandoned them because I got jealous," Savage hung his head, "I didn't believe the people who trusted me most, and I turned my back on them when they needed me most. I'm a traitor, and I have to live with it. I can't change what's happened. But..." he turned to Flair with a deep frown, "I'm gonna make things right starting right now. Nature King," he shoved a finger into Flair's face, "I hereby challenge you for the world championship at WrestleMania, ooooooooooohhhh yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!"

The arena exploded in applause. Flair waved Blassie and Sherri close for a consultation. "Well, Flair, what's it gonna be?" Savage pressed him.

"OK, Macho, it's clear you're even stupider than you let on half the time," Blassie approached him, smiling smugly, "But if you want the shot, you've got the shot. I'll see..." he scowled at the fans as they exploded in applause again, then continued, "I'll see you and the little slut Liz in Detroit for the title next month-if she's got the nerve to show up after what we put her through last time."

"IF she's willing to take you back, of course," Sherri cut in coldly, "And for the record, Macho," she thrust a finger into his chest, "If she DOES show up at ringside, she's just as fair game as you'll be. We see the opening to take it to her, we will."

"Go ahead and try, Sherri. But you do, and you, Blassie, and Flair'll get a Macho Madness hangover like you can't imagine!" Savage warned her right back, "For the Mega Powers, and especially for the greatest manager in all of wrestling, the First Lady-that's better than you'll ever be, Sherri-Elizabeth, I'll take pride in taking the title Flair don't deserve off him, and putting it back around a worthy waist, mine! And in front of over ninety thousand people, as I hear the attendance'll be close to, it'll give me great pleasure to give the King some royal pain for his crimes, oooooooooooooohhhhhh yeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!"

He slammed the microphone down to the floor and thrust both arms skyward to a tremendous ovation. "And there you have it, folks, just like that, the main event at WrestleMania is set, with Ric Flair accepting Randy Savage's challenge," McMahon was smiling himself now, "And it's clear that not only is Macho Madness back, but stronger than ever before, with...wait a minute, Blassie clobbers Randy Savage with the cane as he leaves the ring!" he gasped, "And look out, Flair's got the chair, he's swinging it hard-no, he misses the direct hit-but Sherri connects to the head with the scepter; it looks like she's shouting at Savage that Elizabeth is dead meat if she's in his corner at WrestleMania. But the challenge has been made and accepted, and the Macho Man, though he's clutching his head in pain as he stumbles back towards the locker room, is now wrestling's Great Hope against the Nature King's reign of terror..."

* * *

><p>"...that of course was the scene two weeks ago, when the Macho Man challenged Ric Flair for the world championship at WrestleMania, and the Nature King accepted. Since that time, the rest of card for WrestleMania has been officially signed, and a record twenty-one matches will be contested on March 29th at the beautiful Pontiac Silverdome in Detroit," McMahon turned away from the monitor positioned behind his seat at the head of the conference table, "We welcome you to our special Prime Time Wrestling WrestleMania preview special, where we will break down all twenty-one matches. Allow me to introduce our special guest panel: to my right, Gorilla Monsoon and wrestling's living legend, Bruno Sammartino; Bruno, we're glad you were willing to come out of retirement to help out with WrestleMania this year."<p>

"Well, for the extra hundred thousand dollars Jack Tunney offered for the job, I figured why not?" Sammartino shrugged.

"Well, we are glad to have you back, Bruno," Monsoon patted him on the back.

"Yes we are indeed. And on my left, Bobby 'the Brain' Heenan and Jesse 'the Body' Ventura..."

"And as usual, McMahon, the pleasure is all yours," the Body told him, taking a large bite out of the meatball sandwich in front of him.

"I'm sure the pleasure IS all yours, Jesse, given how you helped drive the Macho Man mad enough to set in motion the events that cost Hulk Hogan the world title," McMahon glared at him.

"Hey, I'm completely innocent McMahon."

"Oh yeah, if you're so completely innocent, how come all the badmouthing of Hogan and the trying to say he and Elizabeth were having an affair on the air?" Sammartino demanded at him.

"I'm exercising my Fifth Amendment rights to remain silent until you respect my privacy, Bruno," Ventura folded his arms across his chest. McMahon rolled his eyes in disgust. "Also joining us to provide viewpoints from the wrestlers' standpoints, on my right, from the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper, and on my left, from the Million Dollar Corporation, the current Intercontinental champion, Mr. Perfect."

"Hey, save some for me, Jesse, I missed lunch," Perfect eagerly tore off part of the Body's sandwich and chomped away on it.

"I think you did that on purpose, smart guy, to screw up this discussion," Piper frowned at him.

"All right, gentlemen, let's begin this discussion with the main event: Flair versus Savage for the world title," McMahon turned everyone back to business, "Besides the personally charged nature of how Flair got the title in the first place, coupled with Savage's desire to atone for his mistakes, let's consider that this is also a personal battle for the Macho Man, since we know now that Ric Flair once dated and dumped the lovely Elizabeth before she met Randy Savage. How do you think this is going to factor into Savage's mindset when he enters that ring?"

"Simple; the Macho Man won't be thinking straight at all," Ventura leaned back confidently in his seat, "He's going to let his hatred of Flair blind him, just like he let his hatred for Hogan blind him these last few weeks, and that's going to be his undoing."

"You could argue that, Jesse, but you could also argue that that mindset makes him hungrier than Flair, more determined to win," Monsoon countered, "And you can bet Elizabeth will have him in the best possible condition for the fight, so I think the Macho Man stands a pretty good shot of getting the gold that he's always wanted."

"Oh come on, Gorilla; you're not being fair to Flair at all," Heenan retorted, "Twin referee or not, Flair earned the title fair and square, and earning fair and square means being fair to Flair."

"Will you stop with that fair to Flair nonsense!? He cheated to get the title, Brain, just like you cheated to get Mr. Perfect there the Intercontinental belt!" Monsoon pointed derisively at Perfect.

"But the point is, we got it," Perfect smugly held up the Intercontinental belt, "It's right back where it belongs, and you can bet it's going to stay with me for a perfectly long time to come."

"Perhaps, Mr. Perfect, but you will be putting it on the line at WrestleMania against Ricky 'the Dragon' Steamboat, who will also be quite hungry for the title," McMahon reminded him, "As we all recall, he was a top contender for the Intercontinental title before first Jake the Snake and then Randy Savage put him out of commission. If anyone has motivation to win that belt, especially in front of his wife and infant son, it's the Dragon. Any comments on that, Mr. Perfect?"

"My comments are, Bret Hart chickened out," Mr. Perfect all but laughed, "After all that whining about the belt, he didn't even want another shot at yours truly..."

"Hey pal, he's not facing you because he realizes Ricky's more deserving of the title right now!" Piper shot back at him, "He had a good run, he's satisfied, he has a more important task at WrestleMania to take care of."

"You can spin it however you want, Piper, but the Hitman's chicken, end of story," Perfect countered.

"I would have to disagree with that, Mr. Perfect, since Bret Hart will be taking on Jake 'the Snake' Roberts at WrestleMania, certainly no easy task," McMahon pointed out, "Now that encounter seems a push to me; on the one hand, you have the methodical, calculating Hitman, and on the other side, the cold, aggressive Snake; two opposing forces that have been nearly unstoppable here in the WWF. Who do you think wins?"

"The Snake destroys the Hitman, end of story," Heenan predicted confidently, "All the technical excellence of execution is no match for a man who is the Devil incarnate. Bret Hart'll go down to the DDT in less than a minute, I say."

"And I say you're out of your mind, Heenan; Bret Hart doesn't lose this match as I see it," Sammartino argued, "He's a patient man; he'll wait until the Snake exhausts or overextends himself, and then strike him and poison him."

"Good one, pal, good one," Piper chuckled, "Jake's a tough customer, but he doesn't have Bret's brain, Brain."

"Well I say he's got no brain, no-brain; why would he want to step into the ring with someone like Jake who could kill him if he's not careful?" Ventura posed.

"Because he's going to teach Jake a lesson about being an all-around monster," the Scotsman told him firmly, "Jake needs to pay for all the cruelty he's pulled in the WWF, most notably that assault on Liz in the Funeral Parlor, and Bret's going to give him a beating he won't forget as punishment."

"Dream on; he's got nothing on Jake," Perfect laughed at him.

"Only time will tell, gentlemen. And as for you, Roddy Piper, you will also be going for the gold, as Ted DiBiase has agreed to put the Million Dollar Belt on the line against you," McMahon pointed out, "Now how did you get him to agree to that when so far here in the World Wrestling Federation, he has yet to put that unofficial title of his on the line?"

"It was a simple matter of tapping into the man's obscene pride, Vince. You see, I decided DiBiase had to pay the price for setting into motion the events that made Flair world champion," Piper said firmly, "A man like him, you've got to hit him where it hurts, and the one thing he covets more than anything is his precious Million Dollar Belt. So I told him he was a disgrace to the belt, he took offense and challenged me for it, and that was that. And I'm going to take it from him in Detroit as punishment for his million dollar sins."

"Fat chance, Piper; you're not worth a cent in DiBiase's vast fortune," Perfect told him roughly.

"That's still worth more than you are, champ," Piper told him condescendingly, making Perfect rise up furiously in his seat. "Curt, Curt, don't pay any attention to him; he's just jealous that you're perfect and he's not," Heenan raised a hand towards his man.

"Yes, we don't want any actual fights in here on television," McMahon warned them all. "The tag team belts of course are also going to be on the line, as the champions the Mega Mercenaries, the Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff, defend against the number one contenders, the Rockers, who are finally getting the shot at the gold that I think they absolutely deserve."

"Maybe you do, McMahon, but I don't; Freddie Blassie'll have the Sheik and Volkoff ready to wipe the mat with those two pretty boys," Heenan predicted.

"And what makes you so certain when they needed his cane to win the world tag titles in the first place?" Sammartino countered.

"Cane, schmane, Bruno; they had L.O.D. beat good even before it was introduced into the match," the Brain stood his ground.

"Oh really, then how do explain the fact they had ample opportunity to put the Legion of Doom away throughout the match and couldn't?" Monsoon posed to him, "What you're throwing out now is standard Million Dollar Corporation rubbish about being the victims and the underdogs."

"Well we are, Gorilla; you and the establishment come down on us all the time!" Perfect protested.

"Sure, Perfect, and with good cause; not one of you, including the Iron Sheik and Nikolai Volkoff, have any respect for the rules..."

"The other representatives of the Million Dollar Corporation also of course will be in action at WrestleMania," McMahon picked up the conversation, "First of, let us look at the matchups with the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, starting with the Undertaker putting his undefeated streak at WrestleMania to date on the line against the British Bulldog..."

"And the Phenom's streak's going to continue without a hitch," Ventura confidently predicted, "If the Bulldog thinks he has a literal chance in hell against the Phenom, he's even stupider than he looks."

"You're too overconfident as always, Ventura; if anyone's going to stop the Undertaker, it's Davey Boy; he's been training hard, and as I understand from him, his family'll be at ringside, he's going to be going for the win for them, and I think he just might do it," Piper countered.

"We shall indeed see, Hot Rod. Your other teammate the Big Boss Man will be trying to settle the score with 'Ravishing' Rick Rude once and for all in a Bighouse Match, the stipulation of which is that any object brought to the ring can be legally used as a weapon," McMahon explained, "So, Bobby Heenan, how do you think these match parameters will affect your man?" he turned to the Brain.

"This is the green light for him since he has Rude cheat to win whenever possible; now he's been given the OK to go right ahead and go for broke," Sammartino interrupted.

"Hey Bruno, nothing that Boss Man doesn't do himself!" Heenan shot back, "And for your information, Rick has always been an upstanding wrestler who gives..."

"Upstanding my foot, Boobs; don't think we don't look at the match footage and see all the cheap shots the guy takes when the ref isn't looking!" Piper jumped in, "Well don't think you have the edge when Rude keeps insulting the Boss Man's mother like he's been doing again..."

"I don't know where you get that from, Roddy; I love the Boss Man's mother; she's a very attractive woman..."

"Oh sure, Brain, sure," Monsoon rolled his eyes, "Next match, Vince."

"The next match is a bittersweet one for all of us here in the World Wrestling Federation," McMahon grew somber, "As you all know by now, Andre the Giant recently announced his retirement from professional wrestling following WrestleMania. Before he goes, however, he's made it clear he wants one last shot at Earthquake for trying to break his leg permanently when the Giant was trying to get Hulk Hogan out of that locked coffin in the Funeral Parlor. That match has been signed, and as per the stipulations agreed on by both parties, in part due to stringent doctor's concerns about Andre's condition, it will be contested as a tag team match. Earthquake earlier in the week announced that none other than Andre's long time nemesis Big John Studd will be his partner, and just yesterday, Andre, who for this match will have his former manager Captain Lou Albano in his corner, announced that he will be partnered with Tugboat, in what is now being informally referred to by insiders as the Clash of the Titans. Your thoughts, gentlemen?"

Bye bye Giant, and hope you have good health insurance when Studd and Earthquake break you into little pieces on the way out," Perfect cracked.

"Well I think Andre's got a real good chance to come out of his last match a winner..." Monsoon declared.

"How, Gorilla; Earthquake nearly broke the man's leg in half; you can bet he's going to go for it again right off the bat," Ventura protested, "And if he thinks Tugboat of all people's going to make a good partner in there..."

"Much better than Studd, who I think has been losing an awful lot of steam lately," Sammartino countered.

"Oh come on, Bruno, open your eyes; Studd's just as good as he was before-and, I'd like to point out, regardless of what Andre might say, John Studd IS still the _real_ giant in professional wrestling, and he's going to prove it at WrestleMania when he and Earthquake kick Andre out the door with a thud-after they shave off some more of his locks for mementos," Heenan predicted.

"Well you can forget about that, Boobs; Andre's not losing any more hair to anyone, and if Studd, Earthquake, or anyone else tries it, they're the ones who'd better have a good health plan," Piper told him firmly.

"I see, Roddy Piper. Your remaining teammate in the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, Tito Santana, will once more be facing off with his former tag team partner, Rick Martel. This is the first time Martel has agreed to a face to face encounter without provisions; any trepidations on Santana's part going into this one that his former partner on Strike Force might still have something up his sleeve?" McMahon asked the Scotsman.

"Well, Tito knows to keep an eye on Martel, who's shown himself to be far from trustworthy, and I think that he's got a good game plan going in, since he certainly knows how Martel thinks, and all the Arrogance in the world isn't going to save the Model from his just desserts," Piper said confidently.

"Dream on; Martel was the driving force behind Strike Force, and Chico knows it; he's nothing compared to the Model," Ventura retorted.

"It's TITO for the love of God, Ventura!" Piper shouted at him.

"Oh, whatever," the Body growled indifferently. McMahon rolled his eyes. "Moving on to singles action not involving either faction represented at this table, Hot Rod, as I understand it, you and the rest of the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection have formally and finally extended an invitation to the Ultimate Warrior, that if he wins his WrestleMania match, you'll all let him into the Connection."

"In a lot of ways, it was against our better judgment, Vince, but he kept pushing us to the point that we figured, might as well give him the shot, or he won't leave us alone," the Scotsman sighed.

"I see. As such, the Ultimate Warrior has gone out of the way to get the most imposing opponent possible, and for WrestleMania, that will be all six hundred plus pounds of Yokozuna. Gentlemen, do you think the Warrior has a chance?"

"Not even when Hell freezes over," Perfect laughed, and anyone watching at home might have noticed Piper giving his usual foe a sharp nod of affirmation.

"Perhaps, Mr. Perfect, but let us remember back to the Royal Rumble, when the Ultimate Warrior pulled off the impossible and slammed Yokozuna," McMahon reminded him, "That more than showed Yokozuna is not indestructible, and that if the Warrior plays his cards right, he just might pull off the upset and get into the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection. In other singles action, your man, Bobby Heenan, King Kong Bundy, will be facing 'Hacksaw' Jim Duggan," he turned to the Brain, "And the word is out that Duggan will have his good friend Sergeant Slaughter in his corner..."

"Which will make no difference whatsoever, McMahon; not even all of Sarge's tactical expertise will compensate for Duggan's empty head," Heenan laughed.

"Exactly, Bobby; I hold nothing against Sarge-I respect all my fellow veterans of the great U.S. armed forces-but he's wasting his time on a hack like Duggan," Ventura added.

"Well we'll know for sure come WrestleMania. We will also see Adrian Adonis take on the Junkyard Dog..."

No question there; Adonis pounds the Dog bloody," Ventura predicted.

"That we shall see. We will also see comparative newcomer Diesel, who will take on Bad News Brown in front of his hometown fans in his pay-per-view debut. And also just signed, an eight man match, pitting the team of Mr. Wonderful Paul Orndorff, relative newcomer the 1-2-3 Kid, and the Killer Bees against the team of Ken Patera, the One Man Gang, and two members of the Orient Express; exactly which two, however, we don't yet know at this point."

"It doesn't matter who Fuji chooses; just one of the Orient Express could beat the whole other team on his own," Heenan predicted.

"Well, for the record, Brain, your guy Patera's going to be facing an angry Mr. Wonderful; after you sold him up the river yet again, Patera better watch his back, because Paul Orndorff's going to want revenge and want it good," Monsoon remarked with a sly grin.

"You've got it all wrong, Monsoon; Paul and I are still on reasonably good terms..."

"That appears to be very far from the truth as I see it, Bobby Heenan," McMahon shook his head firmly, "And also just signed, not one but two ten man tag matches. The first will pit the team of Koko B. Ware, the Texas Tornado, Tatanka, 'Superfly' Jimmy Snuka, and Razor Ramon; against the team of the Magnificent Muraco, 'Cowboy' Bob Orton, Kamala, Dino Bravo, and relative newcomer Bam Bam Bigelow."

"I don't know why they bothered putting this match together; a team of blind men could beat Ware, Snuka and the other bums they got roped in with," Perfect snorted.

"Don't put them down, Henning; a lot of the guys on that team are pretty strong contenders for your Intercontinental title if you happen to beat the Dragon in your match, and frankly, I don't think you will," Piper shot back at him.

"OK, I'm going on the record here as a broadcast journalist, Piper; Perfect will not only beat the Dragon Steamboat at WrestleMania, but he could beat everyone on Ware's team in a handicap cap match to retain the gold," Heenan predicted confidently.

"Well then, I'll just tell them all that, and see if Jack Tunney wants to sign that match," the Scotsman dared him.

"Now wait, I said COULD beat him; Mr. Perfect as champion should choose his opponents from..."

"The second ten man match has taken a bit of a shuffling due to unforeseen injuries lately," McMahon cut in, "But now everything has been finalized, and we will see a spectacular all-American team of the American Dream Dusty Rhodes, the Made in the U.S.A. All-American Lex Luger in his grand WrestleMania debut after his recent signing by the WWF, George 'the Animal' Steele, and the U.S. Express. This patriotic quintet will face Japanese sympathizer Crush, in his first pay-per-view since his release from prison on assault charges not long back, and his mercenary squad of Terry Funk, Doink the Clown, and the Brainbusters."

"Where do they got off calling a mentally unhinged nut like Steele a patriot!?" Ventura complained, "I'll bet anything Albano tricked him into signing up for this one; he's too stupid to do otherwise. Meanwhile, while I don't approve of what Crush did turning, his back on this country, he's way too strong for any of these hacks across from him, and he's put together a good squad to counterbalance them."

"You call George Steele a weak link, Jesse, what about Doink; how he ended up with these toughs, you tell me," Monsoon challenged him.

"It's Fuji's trick move, Gorilla; Rhodes and Luger'll take the clown lightly, and he'd knock them dead with something unexpected and probably hilarious, as usual."

"In other action," McMahon continued, "Brutus 'the Barber' Beefcake will meet the Honky Tonk Man in a Haircut Match; the loser will have his head shaved clean. One wonders what must be going through Brutus's mind, given he was a leading challenger for the Intercontinental title during the period the Honky Tonk Man held it before that terrible accident that put him out of action for so long; it may be too late for the title, but he can at least get the justice on the Honky Tonk Man."

"What justice, McMahon? Honky never did anything to hurt him," Ventura protested.

"How soon you forget, Jesse; he taunted Beefcake all the time as champion, telling him he wasn't good enough to hold it, that he himself was the greatest champion of all time," Sammartino pointed out.

"So, no harm done-and for the record, Bruno, Honky WAS the greatest Intercontinental champ of all time-so far." Ventura hastily held up a hand as Perfect glared at him.

"What do you mean no harm done; he mocked and bullied Beefcake every time they crossed paths," Monsoon countered, "If Brutus wins and shaves his head, it'll be a good comeback."

"But he ain't gonna; it's Brutus that'll be the bald one when it's all over," Perfect predicted.

"Well, someone will be bald at the end of this one; any manner of losing, including countouts and disqualifications, will get one of those participants' hair cut," McMahon explained, "Let us move on to the tag team matches that have been signed, starting with one that I find very interesting; the newly formed New Foundation of Jim 'the Anvil' Neidhart and 'the Rocket' Owen Hart will be facing off with the Fabulous Rougeau Brothers. As you recall, gentlemen, Jimmy Hart sold out the Hart Foundation in favor of the Rougeaus, and the Anvil has been waiting a long time to settle the score with Jacques and Raymond for helping with that treachery..."

"There was no treachery there, McMahon; Jimmy Hart found a better team in the Rougeaus and took them under his wing," Heenan rationalized.

"Are you crazy, Boobs; he threw the Harts away like yesterday's garbage the moment they lost the tag team titles!" Piper bellowed at him, "I spoke with Jim Neidhart, and he hasn't forgotten the humility of being stabbed in the back by Jimmy Hart, and so come WrestleMania, he and Owen are going to give those fake all-American boys a taste of their own medicine."

"Then why didn't he and the Hitman go after the Rougeaus when the Hart Foundation was still together!?" Ventura argued.

"Were you even watching back then, Jesse; Jimmy Hart and the Rougeaus ran from the Hart Foundation and refused any contract with them for a head-to-head matchup," Monsoon reminded him, "Now the running's over, and they've got to face up to the Anvil and Owen Hart, who so far during his time here in the WWF has shown himself to be just as good as his brother."

"Indeed he has. And speaking of brothers, two more sets of the brothers will also be clashing, as the Beverly Brothers, Beau and Blake, to be managed by the Macho Man's brother, the Genius Lanny Poffo, will face off with the Steiner Brothers, Rick and Scott, who will be competing in front of their hometown crowd, essentially. And that fact, I feel, gives them a strong edge in the match," McMahon predicted.

"Absolutely; with all the fans in their corner, they should emerge over the Beverlies easy," Sammartino agreed, "And they're more talented too."

"Don't throw away the Beverly Brothers just like that; they're a pretty good team, better than most people say, and with a Poffo in their corner, they're bound to be even better," Heenan remarked confidently, "In fact, I think they're going to pull a terrific upset and humiliate the Steiners in front of their hometown fans."

"No way; the Steiners are far better, period, exclamation point," Piper retorted.

"Also, before we get too far into the matter of tag teams, we forgot to mention another signed singles match for WrestleMania, a match that in fact has Bobby Heenan here to thank for being set up in the first place," McMahon turned with a sharp gaze to the Brain, who slid down in his seat, looking somewhat embarrassed, "For as we all saw approximately one month ago, Harley Race publicly quit the Heenan Family in disgust at the crowning of Ric Flair as the Nature King, feeling his territory and personality here in the World Wrestling Federation was being infringed on..."

"He's a wimp and a sore loser, McMahon," Perfect protested smugly, "Bobby told us it would be in our best interests to support Flair a hundred percent; Harley got greedy and wanted to hog the spotlight. We're better off without him."

"Yeah, and yet you used to call him a good friend; some perfect soul mate you are, pal!" Piper shot back at him.

"Well Roddy, it doesn't matter; Heenan found a better king than that washed-up has-been Race, and suffice to say, Haku has done the role of king justice since he got the crown," the Body retorted.

"You call Harley Race a washed-up has-been, Jesse Ventura, and yet you used to praise him before these events took place..." McMahon frowned deeply at him.

"Hey, just like Razor Ramon the Not Really Bad Guy, he duped me into thinking he was a better guy than he actually is. And there ain't too much he can do about it now that Bobby here officially crowned Haku in front of the live audience on Piper's Pit-so don't you say anything on the matter, Roddy," Ventura thrust a finger in the Scotsman's face.

"Oh you want to talk about that coronation, Ventura? Let's role that footage, Vince," Piper slyly asked the emcee.

"Indeed we shall Roddy Piper," McMahon turned towards the monitor at the end of the set as the footage came up, "There you are, Bobby Heenan, crowing about how great and wonderful Haku is with a crown he in no way earned, all while putting down Harley Race and degrading him..."

"It's not degrading if it's the truth, McMahon," Perfect cut in.

"Well I don't think that's the truth at all, Mr. Perfect, and clearly neither did Harley Race-here he comes now onto the set to give you a hard tongue lashing, Bobby Heenan..."

"You see, this is why I'm glad he left the Heenan Family; bad anger management skills," the Brain protested, "He was going to kill me right then and there; take a look at the crazed look in his eye! I know you'll rip me apart after what happened next, but..."

"Yes, here's what happened next: Tama running onto the set and a sneak attack on Harley Race from behind! And then you, Bobby Heenan, have the nerve to egg him and Haku on to give the real king of the World Wrestling Federation a terrible beating! How can you possibly justify that!?" McMahon dared the Brain as the footage of the Islanders' double teaming rolled.

"Uh...um...uh..."

"I'll take it, Bobby; Race threw down the challenge, Haku simply answered," Ventura spoke up, "That he didn't like what he sowed, that was his problem. Now what happened afterwards, THAT'S what I have a problem with. Rhodes had no business sticking his nose into what..."

"Yes indeed, Dusty Rhodes running onto the set here and helping Harley Race fight off the Islanders, finally rekindling his relationship with his longtime friend after some time apart, and for that I'm sure Harley Race is no doubt quite grateful."

"But I'll tell you one thing, McMahon; Rhodes better not interfere in the King vs. King match that's been signed like he interfered here; if he does, Tunney ought to kick his sorry hide immediately out of the WWF without a chance for appeal if he wants any credibility for his presidency," the Body thundered.

"Now let's get serious, Jesse; I do not feel Jack Tunney's credibility is on the line in any way at the moment. As noted, Harley Race will face Haku in this special King versus King match; the losing king, regardless of how he loses, will be forced to surrender his crown for good," McMahon explained the stipulation, "Our final match on the slate will be a special twelve man super tag match. On one side will be the team of the Legion of Doom, Demolition, and the Bushwhackers, and on the other side, the team of the Nasty Boys, the Powers of Pain, and your newest team, Bobby Heenan, Power & Glory. There will be no disqualifications, and falls will count anywhere in the building. Now Bobby, do you feel your men are up to snuff for such an intense match so soon after having formed?"

"Come on, McMahon; Bobby wouldn't have formed the team if he didn't know they were more than ready for WrestleMania," Perfect cut in.

"No, this is a good question; so far all their opponents have been a lot weaker than they are," Sammartino pointed out, "Who's to say they're ready for the big time yet?"

"Let me tell you something, Bruno; Hercules and Paul Roma would be doing even more impressively against better foes, I personally guarantee it," Heenan told him sharply, "And come WrestleMania, they are going to beat L.O.D., Demolition, and the Bushwhackers at their own dirty game."

"What dirty game, Heenan; it's the Powers of Pain and Glory and the Nasties that have shown themselves to be dirty," Sammartino protested.

"Not as dirty as L.O.D. and the Marching Morons," Ventura shot back at him.

"Oh are you blind AND stupid; Power & Glory are brutes who manhandle their opponents!" Piper roared.

"I could say the same about you, Piper!" Perfect shouted at him. A harsh six-way argument among the panelists broke out in full force. "Gentlemen. gentlemen, please, let's try and keep it civil here!" McMahon tried to restore order. When his co-hosts kept shouting at each other, he sighed in resignation and continued into the camera, "That's the lineup for you; call your local cable provider and tell them you want WrestleMania beamed into your home on March 29th. As an extra bonus for all of you that purchase the event, we will have an in-depth pre-show, in which the World Wrestling Federation will honor the legends of the sport, and that certainly will be something to see. We'd also like once again to extend our well wishes to former champion Hulk Hogan as he recovers from injuries sustained in that terrible attack by the Million Dollar Corporation, including by Mr. Perfect there..."

"Hogan deserved it, McMahon!" Perfect shouted at him in the middle of a sharp argument with Piper.

"No one deserved that, Mr. Perfect!" McMahon shouted back, "We do wish the Hulkster a firm recovery, and hope that his fellow Mega Power Randy Savage can in fact succeed in winning the world title from Ric Flair. We'll be back with more action and analysis after the world premiere of our new WrestleMania music video as performed by all the WrestleMania participants this year..."

* * *

><p>"So, you wish Savage luck, do you McMahon?" Don Vincenelli reclined in his easy chair with a smug smile, lighting up a cigarette, "Well, too bad, because there is no way on earth Savage is going to win that title come WrestleMania, am I right boys?"<p>

He turned to his thugs all around his living room. "Nope," they all answered in unison, cocking their machine guns, "No way at all..."

TO BE CONCLUDED...


End file.
